


Out of This World

by u_muggle



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fluff, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-04-04 02:24:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 24,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14010135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/u_muggle/pseuds/u_muggle
Summary: Clara Oswald was a beautiful, intelligent young woman. So why hadn't someone swept her off her feet yet? Maybe the Otherworldly Dating Site could solve her problem? After all, their dating experience was said to be out of this world....





	1. The Otherworldly Dating Site

Her red ballpoint pen glided smoothly over the surface of another _Inspector Calls_ essay. She corrected spelling, crossed out and underlined, and with a little smile, wrote her final comments. The soft pinging of her open laptop pulled her attention away from the now considerably smaller pile of year nine homework.

A small email notification sprung upwards from the taskbar. She clicked on it, a small frown slowly forming as she progressed through the contents of the email.

_You've got a match!_  
_Clara Oswald, you've matched with the Doctor. Click on the link below to accept or decline your match._

'Just junk...' Clara muttered to herself, already moving her mouse to the delete button. With one click the email slid out of her inbox and into the bin. 'Like I needed a reminder about how pathetic my love life is anyway,' she muttered, closing her laptop and rising from the sofa.

It had been over three years since her last partner. Danny had been lovely, a really great guy. But that was just the problem. Life with Danny would have been a life of settling for average. A life of waking up, kissing good morning, going to teach, coming home to eat, watching TV and going to bed before 10pm. Clara wanted more than average, she wanted spontaneity and excitement with the optional side serving of safe cuddles on the sofa.

Danny was now happily married to a primary school teacher. The wedding had been beautiful. A classic church wedding with a big white dress and a diamond ring. The whole event had been another reminder of how depressingly single Clara Oswald was. She'd honestly partly given up on finding anyone, much to the chagrin of her Gran. Every family visit was now an intensive interrogation on Clara's non existent love life. By her Gran's most recent line of questioning it seemed that she'd be set up on an awkward blind date any day now. But where on earth was she supposed to meet someone anyway? It wasn't like there were a lot of eligible men at work, and gone were the days when meeting people in bars and clubs was attractive to her. For the foreseeable future at least, Clara Oswald was doomed to be single.

 

* * *

 

 

 **PING!** Clara pulled out her phone to see another email notification. Opening up her inbox she sighed.

_Your match is waiting for you Clara Oswald! Clink the link below to accept or decline the Doctor._

'Seriously, another one. This is like the fifth email I've got this month.'

'You alright?' her friend Rory asked, sipping his coffee with a smile. Clara had known Rory Williams since university, after a horrendously hungover encounter in the library. Rory was just the type of guy to spot a dying English Lit student contemplating the punishment for vomiting over a copy of Blake's _Song's of Innocence_ , and return ten minutes later with a cup of tea and a box of paracetemol. Clara had found him in the library the next day with his head laid dejectedly in a pile of medical books. She'd swiftly headed to the café in the foyer and bought two cups of coffee. Nearly five years later they were still best friends.

'Yeah fine, I've just been getting these stupid emails from this dating site, which by the way, I've never even signed up to, let alone heard of,' she replied, putting her phone on the small table in front of her. 'Thanks for the tea.'

'No problem. What's the site?' Rory asked, leaning back in his armchair whilst absentmindedly watching the queue of people at the till.

'Errrrrmmmmm,' Clara mumbled, scrolling to the bottom of the email. ' _The Otherworldly Dating Site_.'

'Never heard of them,' Rory remarked. 'Have you looked at your supposed profile?'

'Of course not, I bet as soon as I click on the link it'll give me a virus or something.'

'Or you could find the love of your life......' Rory shrugged and gave a small shy smile. 'How's Amy?'

Amy Pond, a slightly later edition to Clara's life and friendship group. Clara's first memory of Amy had been a hand thrusting a champagne flute into hers, soon followed by the words: 'Trust me on this, you'll be needing a lot more of those before this wedding is over.' Amy had been right and a drunken friendship was forged at Danny and Amanda's wedding. Two years later and Rory had just discovered the charms of Amy Pond.

Clara laughed. 'So subtle Rory!' She's fine, looking forward to seeing you again.'

'Good,' Rory replied happily.

'Good indeed,' Clara remarked, taking a large gulp of her tea.

 


	2. No Pudding Brains Need Apply

It was a boring Friday night alone, Clara was decidedly restless and already half way through a bottle of red wine. Rory and Amy had gone out together. She had been invited, but the thought of being the awkward third wheel again had put her off. Throwing the TV remote down onto the sofa with a sigh, Clara glanced around the living room, chewing the inside of her lip thoughtfully. Her eyes slid over the TV and her bookcases with no sign of excitement. Finally, Clara picked up her laptop. Opening the lid, it whirred back into life, the fan humming loudly in protest. Clara found herself once again staring at an email from _The Otherworldly Dating Site_.

'Oh what the hell,' she said out loud, finally clicking on the link. After a few seconds of loading she found herself face to face with a smiling picture of herself.

**_Clara Oswald, 31_ **  
**_Female_ **  
**_Shoreditch, London, UK_ **  
**_Earth_ **  
**_Human_ **

**_Loves literature, music and travelling._ **  
**_Dreams to one day travel the world and learn to fly a plane._ **  
**_Currently saving up money by being an English teacher._ **  
**_Would like to meet someone funny, intelligent and kind._ **

'Well this is scarily accurate. I bet it was Rory the sneaky bastard! Although, I know he doesn't have this photo of me...... Where have I seen it before?' Clara wondered. 'Human? Bit weird.....' she continued, glancing once again at her profile. With a frown she navigated to her matches.

**_The Doctor, 2145_ **  
**_Male_ **  
**_Gallifrey, The Constellation of Kasterborous (Not permanent resident)_ **  
**_Time Lord_ **

**_Loves adventure and travelling. Needs a reliable new travelling companion, no pudding brains need apply._ **  
**_Preferably bold, compassionate and with an enquiring mind._ **

An older man with a strong aquiline nose and a wild array of silver curls frowned back at her. He was dressed smartly in a waistcoat, shirt and black coat. His lips were pursed in what she could only describe as a pout, drawing attention to his prominent cheekbones. All in all, she was quite impressed with his profile picture. His profile itself was slightly odd but that half bottle of wine she'd already consumed this evening was easing her misgivings considerably. In for a penny in for a pound. She clicked the accept button hastily and watched as a small messaging box appeared on the screen.

 

> _Hi Doctor, looks like we've matched. How are you?_

 

She waited, feeling a slight jolt of panic as three dots began bouncing up and down on the screen. He was replying.....

 

> **Hello Clara. I'm fine.**
> 
> _Cool, ok...... So first question, you're a doctor then?_
> 
> **No.**
> 
> _Ok. But you call yourself the Doctor?_
> 
> **Yes.**

 

Clara huffed loudly. Why even bother if he was going to be like this? She angrily typed her reply.

 

> _Ok, look, if you don't want to chat that's fine, you probably matched with me by mistake anyway._
> 
> **No! I'm sorry, I haven't done this before. I don't really like talking through a computer, I never know what to say. Also it's been a while......**
> 
> _It's ok. It's been a while for me too._  
>  _How about you just tell me what you did today?_
> 
> **I played guitar, took a trip to listen to Beethoven and then read a bit. Nothing too exciting.**
> 
> _Sounds like a good time to me._
> 
> _Well, apart from the Beethoven bit to be honest, not really my type of music. Where did you go to listen to him, an orchestral concert?_
> 
> **Beethoven is astounding, an extremely talented human as humans go.**
> 
> **No, I went to Vienna in 1795, helped him a bit with the composition of his piano Sonata op. 3.**

 

'Right, sure you did,' Clara muttered, her fingers hesitating over the keys of her laptop. She couldn't quite tell if he was messing with her or being deadly serious. If he was messing with her at least he was being original in his method. 'Oh fuck it!

 

> _Bet he didn't appreciate you butting your nose in? I mean, I feel like Beethoven would have been quite capable of composing on his own._
> 
> **Ah! That's what he said but I soon talked him round.**

 

Clara paused and opened up another tab on her internet browser. She quickly googled _Beethoven's Sonata op.3_.

 

> _Hang on, didn't Hadyn his teacher criticise it and basically say it was a bit shit compared to his previous work?_
> 
> **Yes well humans can't understand a good thing when it's shoved right underneath their noses sometimes.**
> 
> **Oh and language!**
> 
> _Sorry Doctor ;)_
> 
> **Oh god, not the emojis! You know I once met a race of emoji robots, now that didn't end well at all.**

 

Clara soon found herself literally laughing out loud at the Doctor's replies. His strange habit of shifting the conversation abruptly from one topic to another soon found Clara with numerous open google tabs detailing information on quokkas to Cleopatra. She couldn't remember the last time she'd exercised her brain like this or had so much fun talking to a complete stranger. Yes he was odd, had a strange sense of humour and kept talking about humans as if they were a different species, but something about him was strangely compelling and Clara couldn't quite stop a grin spreading across her face every time he quickly replied.

 

> _Sorry Doctor I've got to go, I'm really tired after work this week!_
> 
> **Oh, ok. Yes, humans need to sleep at least a minimum of 7 hours a day.**
> 
> **It's been a while.**
> 
> _It was nice talking to you Doctor._  
>  _Message me anytime you like :)_
> 
> **I surprisingly enjoyed talking to you too Clara Oswald. I'm not great with time, I tend to get it a bit muddled sometimes.**
> 
> _Goodnight Doctor._
> 
> **Goodnight Clara.**

 


	3. Queen Victoria And Tartan Trousers

 

> **Is it rude to ask how tall you are?**

 

Clara pulled off her motorbike helmet and gloves and glanced down at her phone. She could feel the questioning glances from passersby as she snorted with laughter. Swinging her leg over the side of the bike, she grabbed her school satchel and headed towards her front door.

 

> _Kind of but I'll let this one slide. I'm 5"2._  
>  _Why?_
> 
> **No reason, just wondering........**
> 
> **How was your day? That's what humans ask each other to conform to social etiquette.**
> 
> _It was fine Doctor, actually it hasn't changed much in the fifteen minutes since you last messaged me. I am now officially home though so there is that._
> 
> **It's a Saturday. Since when did small humans go to school on the weekend!**
> 
> _They don't because it's not Saturday, I mean I wish it was but it's Wednesday._
> 
> **Ah yes! Wednesday October 11th 2017.**
> 
> _Mhmmmmm._

 

* * *

>    
>  **Friday October 13th 2017!**
> 
> **You haven't smashed any mirrors or walked under any ladders today have you?**  
>  **Clara?**
> 
> _Hi Doctor! No, very much safe from bad luck. Did stop to stroke a black cat on the way to work today though....._
> 
> **The Venusians, quite like the Egyptians, believe cats to be sacred. Although, they weren't too keen when I declined the offer of one as a gift after I returned their kidnapped princess.....**
> 
> _Not an animal person?_
> 
> **Not really a pet person no. I'd worry too much about them when I travelled, wouldn't want them getting harmed, or causing harm for that matter. Cats and the butterfly effect do not go!**  
>  **Why? Do you like cats???**
> 
> _I love cats but I think if I got one I wouldn't be able to stop and then there would be the whole crazy cat lady thing going on._

 

* * *

>     
>  **_Tartan trousers?_ **
> 
> _A bold fashion statement._
> 
> **A bad one?**
> 
> _Depends on who's wearing them......_

 

**SWOOOOSH!** Clara blinked in surprise at the blurred out thumbnail of a downloading photo. With a slight hint of trepidation she opened the attached image. The Doctor was stood in what could only be described as a decadent palace. A plush red carpet lay underneath his black booted feet, whilst large sparkling crystal chandeliers hung over head, the light glinting softly on his silver curls. She laughed at the mismatch of a black velvet coat and black jumper with a pair of baggy, rather comfortable looking green tartan trousers. The photo had been taken in a mirror by the evident look of concentration on his face and the awkward angle of his arm.

 

> _They suit you. Very cool, very...... classic rock star._  
>  _Are you in a palace by the way?_
> 
> **That's what I said to Victoria, well the cool bit.**
> 
> _Who's Victoria?_

 

Clara mentally slapped herself at how jealous and needy she sounded. To be honest though, this was the first time he had ever mentioned another woman's name.

 

> **Queen Victoria, I popped round for tea at Buckingham. Well I actually came to see Albert but her being the ruling monarch and all, suppose I had to say hi too.**
> 
> _You can just tell me if she's your friend Doctor. You don't have to make up stories._
> 
> **Fine...... I suppose Queen Victoria is my friend in a strange she hates me sometimes kind of way. But that's what friends are for really, aren't they?**  
>  **What are you wearing?**
> 
> _You want me to tell you what I'm wearing?_
> 
> **Show me. How can I take your word about my fashion sense when I haven't even seen yours. It could be awful!**

 

Biting her lip nervously, Clara stood up from the sofa and headed into the hallway in search of her full length mirror. Switching on the lamp for better lighting, she looked at herself through the camera of her phone. A short, petite woman dressed in a pair of high waisted black jeans and a red silky patterned blouse stared back at her with a shy smile. Taking and sending the photo before she could change her mind, she watched it appear in their conversation bubble. Clara tried not to look at her phone as she walked slowly back to the sofa. The silence from it was deafening.

 

> **You look nice. You've got a very round face and big eyes.**
> 
> _Errrrr thanks?_
> 
> **Oh! Albert says what I was trying to say was you look very pretty with beautifully expressive eyes.**
> 
> _Thank you Doctor._


	4. Do Not Say 'The One'

> **I went to see Charlotte Bronte after all that talk about Jane Eyre last week.**

 

Clara found herself smiling tiredly as she noticed the message from the Doctor. She'd had one hell of a day at work and the large pile of marking in her bag was already beginning to taunt her exhausted brain. With a jolt of surprise, Clara realised that the thought of talking to the Doctor made her stomach lurch in excitement. Tapping on her screen she began to reply with a small smirk.

 

> Hi _to you too Doctor! Just for the record, that was three weeks ago not last week._
> 
> **Oh. Right.**
> 
> _But that's ok! Now we've got more to talk about :)_   
>  _What did you talk to Bronte about?_
> 
> **Well you mostly, I was telling her how much of a fan you were. May have got the timings slightly wrong though, she hadn't actually written Jane Eyre yet...**
> 
> _I'm going to say that's probably not good._
> 
> **In fact, thinking about it now, I may have given her the idea.**
> 
> _What do you mean?_
> 
> **Well, she was very interested in you. Kept asking me questions about what you did.....**

 

There it was again, that excited little lurch in her stomach. She'd quickly learnt to go along with the Doctor's imagination. It seemed the more she played along, the more he inadvertently revealed about himself, often through pretending to have conversations with historical figures. Picturing the Doctor's frowning profile image and overall mysterious, brooding persona, Clara huffed out a small laugh before replying.

 

> _Oh and I suppose the grumpy, mysterious Mr Rochester is you ;)_   
>  _Wait, do you have a secret wife in the attic you haven't told me about?!_
> 
> **Haha very funny Clara.**
> 
> _I try to be._
> 
> **Where was your profile picture taken?**
> 
> _What?_
> 
> **Where was your profile picture taken?**
> 
> _Oh, it's in Blackpool. I actually gave it framed to one of my family as a gift last Christmas._
> 
> **You gave a picture of yourself as a gift, a bit vain don't you think Clara!**
> 
> _No! It's a tradition to give my......................_

 

She paused suddenly, her thumb twiddling idly, hovering over her phone screen. She glanced at the mini bubble containing her profile picture. Her eyes widened in sudden realisation.

 

> _Doctor I've got to go, something's come up._
> 
> **Right, ok.**
> 
> _It's not you, I promise!_

 

* * *

 

 

'Oh how exciting, I knew you'd get a match soon enough. You're a beautiful young woman Clara!'

'Gran, I appreciate the thought, but you should have asked my permission before setting a profile up! Although, on the other hand, I am slightly impressed that you managed to do it....... But that's besides the point!' Clara argued, sighing with exasperation at the obvious joy in her Gran's voice. She leant on the fridge door, eyeing the calendar pinned to her wall, her mobile phone pressed closely to her ear.

'I've been going to those computer classes every Wednesday night, the ones you recommended may I remind you,' her Gran replied cheekily.

'That's great Gran, but still......' she pushed herself off the fridge with her hip and flicked idly through the calendar. 'Why did you choose this site anyway?'

'It was the first one I found on Google dear. It seemed perfectly fine to me. You've met someone on it haven't you, so it must be working?'

Clara noted the large red circle around next Friday, it was Danny's wedding anniversary, she needed to remember to buy a card. Rolling her eyes at the calendar, and her Gran, she finally answered, 'yeah I did. But Gran, didn't you think it was a bit weird that they asked you to input my home planet and species?'

'I thought it was just a gimmick of the site, like one of those personality quizzes you're always doing on that phone of yours when Linda's talking.'

'Which Buffy character are you is slightly different from which species are you Gran!' Clara answered indignantly.

'Well all the other answers didn't make much sense anyway,' her Gran said admonishingly. 'It must be an ice breaker thing for when you match. Speaking of matches dear.....'

'Oh, ok he's nice, a bit odd but nice,' Clara acquiesced with a small smile.

'Nice? Clara love, what happened to the girl that said she wouldn't just settle for nice?' her Gran replied, mimicking a rather angry speech Clara had made last year at Christmas dinner in front of her Dad and Linda.

'Fine! He's intelligent and strangely attractive and he makes me laugh and-'

'That's better. So have you asked to meet him?'

'No!' Clara blurted down the phone at the audacity of her Gran. 'Well not yet anyway. It's way too early Gran. I've only been talking to him for a few weeks and not even consistently.'

'It's never too early if-' her Gran started with a knowing tone in her voice.

'Don't say it! Do not say _'the one'_  Gran,' Clara interrupted abruptly, feeling herself squirm inwardly with the embarrassment of the insinuation.

'Ok dear, whatever you say......'

'That _is_ what I say Gran so you better go and enjoy your night out with the girls. Don't have too much gin!' Clara said cheekily.

'Oh you know me..... Have a nice evening dear!'

'That's exactly why I said it,' Clara muttered to herself before turning and speaking back into the phone, 'bye Gran!'

Ending the call, Clara flipped on the kettle and then proceeded to eye up the contents of her fridge. Tapping the fridge door with her index finger she soon found herself considering her Gran's banned words. Shaking her head, she grabbed the milk from the door and closed the fridge with a click. Maybe she had been spending too much time on the internet talking to the Doctor. She hadn't seen Amy and Rory for over three weeks now. Her first thought every evening after getting home from work had been to open her laptop or the app on her phone and seek out the Doctor's next wild story of his day. Maybe by indulging in his fantasies she had been able to forget about real life for a while. She had to admit it had felt nice to be the centre of someone's attention for a few hours each day out of their own free will. Picking up her phone again she quickly Whatsapped Amy and Rory.

 

> _Hey guys! Was wondering if you were free this weekend for a catch up? There's a new restaurant on Albany Road we could try out......_

 

As she watched Amy and Rory type their replies, Clara made a silent promise to herself. She'd try and spend more time in the real world this week.

 


	5. PING!

'And then he asked me to lie on the floor in front of the guy and look seductive yet helpless,' Amy finished, taking a long sip of her coke through a straw.

'What did you say?' Clara asked, feeling outraged at the audacity of the photographer.

'I told him to fuck off,' Amy stated, watching as Clara burst out laughing whilst Rory smirked proudly. 'I then said that if he ever asked me, or in fact any women in the industry anything as downright disgusting, degrading and misogynistic as that again, then I'd personally make sure he never photographed another human being in his life.'

It was a Sunday afternoon. A week had gone by and so far Clara had successfully kept her promise. She'd spent most of the weekend with Rory and Amy, catching up on the highs and lows of Amy's modelling career, the intricacies of Rory's hospital ward politics and both of their unsuccessful attempts to mask the fact that they were both finally in a relationship with each other. This afternoon they'd decided to check out the new restaurant she'd originally mentioned on Friday night.

Juno Lounge was a garishly tiled green and red building with a surprisingly unassuming plain wooden door. The inside was full of varyingly sized wooden tables each painted with a different motif. They were currently seated around a table painted as the classic Piet Mondrian. Large squares and rectangles of primary colours, divided by striking thick black lines, lay underneath their plates and glasses. The walls were adorned with random framed paintings and black and white photographs with no connection that Clara could ascertain. But, despite the odd décor, the place was friendly and lively and the food was amazing. She'd opted for the tapas dishes and was still happily picking away at her food over an hour later. What sealed the deal for Clara was that Juno Lounge allowed dogs inside. In her mind any establishment that allowed dogs was superior to others. She smiled softly at the black Labrador lying calmly under the table next to theirs, its head resting on its paws whilst its tail thumped softly on the wooden floorboards.

'Rory told me about those mystery emails you've been getting,' Amy said, smiling naughtily.

'Did he now?' Clara answered, looking pointedly at a slightly guilty looking Rory. 'Did he tell you after you'd just finished having sex or was it in between kisses on the sofa?'

Rory choked loudly on his drink and Clara watched with amusement as Amy patted his back and rolled her eyes. 'Smooth move Clara Oswald, smooth move,' Amy replied, raising her voice to be heard over the last splutters from Rory. Clara bowed theatrically in her chair. 'Still hasn't distracted me from my original question though.'

'Alas, it's a mystery no longer my friends. My Gran thought it would be a good idea to sign me up for a dating site to help me find someone,' Clara announced.

'Did you speak to him?' Rory asked, his face bright red from coughing. He gingerly took a sip from his drink, making sure she wasn't going to suddenly announce something that would send it up his nose again. Clara chewed her lip.

'She so has, told you she would,' Amy said as she pointed accusingly at Clara. 'Spill the beans.'

'Ok, so I've been speaking to him. He's weird but he makes me laugh,' she answered with a shrug.

'When did you last message him?' Amy questioned, leaning forward in her seat. Rory gave Clara an apologetic smile before leaning backwards in his own seat.

'Ummmmm......' Clara stalled, feeling her eyes glance guiltily towards her phone sat in her handbag. The Doctor had messaged her last Saturday, she'd started to reply before taking a deep breath and exiting the page. In fact, the Doctor had continued to message her this week. Her phone had started to ping at random times in the day as though he thought she might have just been busy in the morning, or the afternoon, or the evening or at midnight...... She had felt increasingly guilty each time but had reminded herself that he wasn't all there was in her life right now. To assuage her guilt she'd started to phone her Gran for a chat or gone for a walk without her phone, picked up that book she'd been meaning to finish for over a year now, gone out with Amy or Rory.

'I-,' she started, interrupted by a familiar **PING!** She glanced at Amy with her eyebrows raised, feeling her face becomingly increasingly red at Amy's knowing look.

'Wow. He must really like you,' Rory muttered. Both Amy and Clara turned to look at him questioningly. 'What? He's been sending you messages the whole time we've been here. Didn't either of you notice? It's been happening all weekend.' Amy looked impressed. Clara swallowed nervously and began scrambling for her phone to put it on silent.

'I errrr, I freaked out. We'd been messaging a lot and I realised that I'd been ignoring everyone else in my life!' Clara finally blurted out anxiously. 'And well, we exchanged photos and he suddenly became a real person not a slightly mysterious man typing away at a keyboard somewhere.'

'Pictures ey?' Amy repeated, waggling her eyebrows suggestively, Rory nudged her with his elbow and sighed.

'Fully clothed normal photos,' Clara stated emphatically.

'Surely if you've both been messaging a lot and trust each other to send photos then there must be something between you? Scary can be good sometimes, trust me,' Rory said, exchanging a quick glance with the woman by his side.

'Rory's right,' Amy chimed in, putting on a more serious face. 'There's nothing worse than being ghosted by someone you thought you had a connection with. Message him back tonight.'

Clara nodded, realising how stupid she'd been. With a sudden anxious dread she hoped she hadn't hurt the Doctor in any way. For all she knew he'd never want to talk to her ever again.

 


	6. Oh God!

For the rest of the meal Clara had sat anxiously contemplating the mistake she'd made. With a sigh and a knowing smile, Amy had glanced at her watch and suddenly remembered she had an appointment with her manager. Coincidentally, Rory needed to go with her. Clara had nodded, grabbed her bag and jacket thankfully, and kissed both Amy and Rory on the cheek. She'd then practically ran back to her flat. After slamming the door, kicking off her shoes and fumbling in her bag for her phone, she'd crawled on to her bed and was now currently opening up the latest message from the Doctor.

 

> **Sorry this is all a mistake, my ship signed me up to this site without my knowledge.**

 

'Shit! Shit, shit, shit,' Clara shouted. She shakily typed out her reply.

 

> _Doctor! I'm sorry this is all my fault!!_

 

Almost immediately the app notified her that the Doctor was typing out a reply. With her heart in her mouth Clara watched as his words popped up onto her screen.

 

> **This is obviously a mistake, you clearly don't want to talk to me.**
> 
> _Hang on Doctor, please._

 

She sat staring dumbly at her phone. Her fingers hovered over the screen, her eyes frantically scanning the messages before. She paused, frowned and began to type.

 

> _Ship?_
> 
> **Yes, she's called a TARDIS, time and relative dimension in space or totally and radically driving in space.**
> 
> **One or the other.....**

 

Clara sighed in relief, at least he was still able to joke with her. She felt some of the tension dissipate from her hunched shoulders, her hands becoming steadier as she replied.

 

> _Right, ok..... Well my Gran signed me up without my knowledge too but that hasn't stopped us getting on has it?_
> 
> **GRAN? What does that stand for?**
> 
> _Gran, as in grandmother. My mum's mum._
> 
> **Oh right, yeah you're human, of course. Humans have quite a grand tradition of family hierarchy.**
> 
> **Quite a grand tradition of a hierarchy in general really, socially speaking. I once kissed Elizabeth I , I'm actually technically married to her as well but......**
> 
> _Haha, let me guess you ran away with Queen Victoria as well. Is that why she hates you ,because you left her?_
> 
> **No! She has Albert, why would I ever interfere with that!?**
> 
> _Ok, so let me get this straight. Your profile says you're from Gallifrey, you're a Time Lord (whatever that is) and you're over 2000 years old._
> 
> _You're friend or ship, or whoever, could have at least tried to take your profile seriously and write it correctly._
> 
> **It is correct!**

 

She huffed loudly. It was slightly endearing and rather impressive the way the Doctor had committed to this narrative throughout the whole of their conversations, but right now she really wished he would take this seriously. All this nonsense about surprisingly accurate descriptions of historical figures and time travel, an obviously time intensive photoshopped photo from Buckingham Palace and a cleverly devised acronym for a spaceship.... Clara found herself staring at the logo of the dating site at the top of the app. _Otherworldly dating, for a dating experience that's out of this world._ Otherworldly....... Otherworldly?

 

> _Oh god! Otherworldly doesn't literally mean what I think it does, does it?_   
>  _Is this a dating site for aliens?_   
>  _Are you an alien?_
> 
> **Depends on what you class as alien. If you mean that I'm not from Earth then yes I am an alien. This is one of the biggest interplanetary dating sites in existence at the moment.**   
>  **I suppose that also depends on the moment you're in.....**
> 
> _Your profile picture and that photo you sent me, is that actually you?_
> 
> _I mean you're not secretly green with four arms are you?_
> 
> **That's me, well the current me anyway....... Why, is it bad? Did you lie about the tartan trousers?**
> 
> _No, not at all. It's good, very good and so were the trousers._   
>  _But that's completely besides the point right now!_
> 
> **And those photos were you?**
> 
> _Yeah, why? Have you never seen a human before?_
> 
> **Of course I've seen humans! Were you even reading when I told you about Elizabeth! I just wanted to double check, you're very beautiful, too beautiful to want to match with me....**

 

 

Clara stared dumbfounded at the message above, she could feel her stomach fluttering pleasantly, her brain focusing on the only normal, slightly sane section of the entire conversation.

 

> _Thank you_
> 
> **You're welcome**

 

Not knowing where to take the conversation next, Clara found herself rereading it all over and over again. It all began to sink in. The entire magnitude of her revelation, the magnitude of her situation. There was no doubt in her mind that he was telling the truth. She was having a panic attack, she could feel her throat tightening as she panted frantically for air. All she could see were the words ' **yes I am an alien** ' floating before her eyes, the stark, bold black type burning into her retinas. She was noticeably shaking, her mobile had long since dropped out of her sweaty hands. He'd been telling the truth the whole time. Clara forced herself to take long, deep, measured breaths, breathing in and out slowly and rhythmically. She could feel the attack beginning to subside.

'Oh god,' she breathed out shakily. 'Oh god, Prince Albert thinks I'm pretty so Queen Victoria probably hates me and Charlotte Bronte thinks I'm a crazy fan of a book she hasn't even written yet.' Clara heard herself laugh hysterically. 'This is crazy.'

Forgoing her phone and using her laptop instead, she googled _The Otherworldly Dating Site_. Opening up its home page, she navigated to her profile and clicked on ' _search for matches'_. The screen reloaded to a what seemed to be a large model of the universe. As she hovered her cursor over the swirling mass of stars and colour, several small labels appeared with magnifying glasses next to each one. Clara clicked on one at random and the page suddenly zoomed in on a series of four planets. Chewing her lip, she picked one at random again.

'Concordion,' she read from the top of the page. 'Ok, here we go. Show me some aliens.' She scrolled slowly down the screen and was presented with a series of photos, each with a name, age and small description underneath. Each being was thin faced, with large grey eyes. Small slits like claw marks ran along either their left or right cheek. The exposed skin underneath varied in colour in each photo from neon pink to a glowing orange. Clara found herself laughing in disbelief as one photo showed a clearly obnoxious male of the species, completely shirtless and flexing his arms. Some things never changed.

Navigating back to the previous page she clicked on another planet. Blino seemed to be populated by small blue people with long trunk like noses. Hobbies seemed to include ice carving and star gazing. She soon found herself randomly clicking on planet after planet from solar systems all over the universe. The more she searched, the more Clara was sure it was real. Nobody in the world could have the imagination, time and money to create this all. The Doctor had definitely been telling the truth. With slight trepidation Clara clicked her cursor on the search bar.

'Gallifrey,' she whispered almost reverently. To her surprise, the page yielded far fewer results than any of the other planets she'd searched so far. Her eyes naturally gravitated towards the Doctor. She smiled automatically but continued to scroll past him. Unlike the Doctor, each photo below designated the person as a Gallifreyan rather than a Time Lord. Each male or female was dressed in varying shades of red and looked humanoid in appearance.

'But they're still alien,' Clara reminded herself. She glanced at her phone lying on the sofa next to her. It vibrated softly on the cushioned surface.

> **Clara?**
> 
>  
> 
>   
>  **Clara?**


	7. Welcome to my TARDIS

'I think I need a cup of tea,' Clara said with a sigh. A few hours had past since she had first started looking at the search page of the dating site. Her Google history was now an amalgamation of alien conspiracy theories, complicated physics pages on the likelihood of time travel and pages and pages of sightings of a mysterious man known as _The Doctor_. The reports were often sketchy and absurd but numerous photographs and portraits did seem to show several faces reappearing throughout history, often in the most incongruous of places.

The kettle finished boiling as Clara grabbed the milk from her fridge. With a waft of steam and the comforting plop of the milk being added, she felt herself relax slightly. With the first tentative sip of her tea, Clara let all the information she'd just learnt slide to the back of her mind.

Suddenly, a low pitched, warped wheezing sound began to reverberate around her flat. The curtains fluttered as a strong gust of warm air flew from what seemed to be the direction of her living room. Clutching her mug of tea tightly in one hand, Clara edged inwards towards the chaos of movement and sound. Just as she reached the kitchen door, the wind abated and her flat fell silent. With one deep breath, Clara pushed open the door and peered into her living room.

There, sat where her coffee table once was, was a large blue police box. Splinters of wood and magazine pages were wedged underneath its base. Taking another sip of her tea, Clara walked slowly towards it. She paused with a start as the box seemed to start to thrum at her proximity. For some strange reason she found herself cautiously extending her free hand as though preparing to stroke a wild beast. The wood itself was unremarkable to the touch, it felt just as wood should and yet, as her fingers connected with the surface, Clara could feel a soft hum extending through them and up towards her chest. Circling around the box, trailing her hand along the surface as she did so, she finally noticed the door handle attached to a set of doors. Taking a few steps backwards, Clara sipped the final vestiges of her tea and placed the mug on the windowsill behind her.

Abruptly, the box's doors flung wildly open and a tall, gangly man strode out towards her. He blinked and stared furiously at Clara and began grappling with his red lined black coat to grasp at a blue and silver metal contraption. With a flick of a button, a soft green glow emanated from the tip. The man waved the thing up in the air in front of her, following the length of her body up and down. With a flick of his wrist he pulled the device upwards and frowned intently at it. She watched with bated breath as, all at once, his body visibly sagged. He pocketed the device and ran his hand with relief through a mass of silver hair.

'You're alright,' he muttered softly to himself.

'Doctor?' Clara asked, her eyes shifting to the still open doors of the box. She watched lights fluttering from within, accompanied by the distinct humming noise she had felt from the outside.

'Hello Clara Oswald,' the Doctor replied, a large grin spreading across his face.

'What the hell are you doing here and how do you know where I live?!' she all but shouted, planting her hands on her hips defiantly. She took a small step backwards, feeling the reassuring lip of the windowsill digging into the small of her back. The now empty mug of tea was also conveniently behind her, just in case she needed a hastily chosen weapon. The Doctor's grin faltered and at her movements, he nervously swept his eyes around the room.

'Ah, ummmmmm I may have checked your IP address,' he finally admitted. 'But,' he added as Clara began to open her mouth, 'I came to check that you were alright.'

'What do you mean alright?'

'You stopped answering my messages again so I came to check that something hadn't happened to you. I have a lot of enemies that could have used you to get at me knowing how special-' he stopped abruptly, peering anxiously at Clara. She could feel her heartbeat quickening, unwarranted tears starting to well up in the corners of her eyes. 'Was that the wrong thing to do?' he explained.

'No, no that's- thank you Doctor,' Clara answered, clearing her throat nervously as she processed not only the alien in front of her, but her body's apparent affection towards him.

The Doctor was a lot taller than she'd expected, she barely reached his chest. Clara found herself admiring the waistcoat peeking out from underneath his coat, alongside the crisp white shirt. Her eyes trailed downwards and noted rather toned thighs hidden underneath black dress trousers. She brought her eyes swiftly back upwards to his face, noticing a softening of his eyes as he watched her silently. She found herself smiling reassuringly back at him.

'Is this your TARDIS?' she asked, walking towards him, pointing her finger at the box behind him. He abruptly spun round on the spot.

'Ah, yes, yes that's her!' he exclaimed, as though he'd forgotten how he'd arrived in her flat.

'She broke my coffee table,' Clara added indignantly.

'Oh, right. She's quite tricky to park sometimes. I can buy you a new one?' the Doctor offered, finally taking in the destruction underneath his ship's weight. 'Did you want to come inside?'

'Are you inviting me into your house?' she asked bluntly, eyeing the entrance way.

'Yes. Why, is that not what I should be doing? I thought humans go to each other's houses all the time,' the Doctor said, frowning in confusion.

'We hardly know each other,' Clara replied mischievously.

'That's not true. You're Clara Oswin Oswald, your mum was called Ellie and your dad's called Dave. He now has a partner whom you hate called Linda. They live in Blackpool. You're a teacher in London and your favourite colour is red. You love Jane Eyre, Jane Austen, cats and travelling. You hate ignorance, sprouts and the Iron Man films.' The Doctor stated. Clara gasped inwardly with surprise. She had always thought they'd spent most of the time talking about him really. He'd garnered and remembered all that from their fantastical conversations? 'Come on then,' he said, turning and walking into the box.

'I don't think it'll be big enough for both of us!' she shouted after him. He ignored her and disappeared inside. With a shake of her head and one last glance around her living room, she entered the TARDIS.

'It's smaller on the outside than it is on the inside,' she breathed in awe, twirling on the spot to take in the whole of the room she now stood in. A hexagonal panelled console stood in the centre, a large filament lit glass column rose from the middle towards the ceiling. Three large circular metal rings were attached above, each with several panels inscribed with strange circular symbols. Several staircases led down towards a lower level and Clara noticed a black leather chair, guitar and amp situated in one corner. A large archway seemed to lead off deeper into the bowels of the ship. More stairs led upwards to a higher tier lined with several lamp lit bookcases and display tables heaped with strange objects. A bust of what Clara could only assume was Beethoven was sat on one table. The humming was stronger here, soft lighting illuminated dancing dust motes, metal panelling echoed underneath her rotating feet. The room smelt strangely familiar, like her home, like her favourite library, like every grand museum she'd ever visited.

'Welcome to my TARDIS, to my home,' the Doctor announced, leaning over the bannister on the higher tier.

Clara laughed with joy, beginning to circle the console, standing on her tip toes to examine the array of buttons and handles on its surface. 'Did you run all the way up there to make it more dramatic?' she asked, eyeing the Doctor watching her with what Clara could only describe as pride.

'Anywhere in time and space, whenever, wherever you want to go,' he said instead, ignoring her question as he strode confidently down the stairs to stand at her side. 'It's your choice Clara Oswald.'


	8. Sikkim

'How about somewhere in India, present day? Let's start local and work our way up to interplanetary,' Clara answered, choosing the first destination that came into her head. As a little girl, sat with her mum looking at atlases and wildlife books, she'd always been fascinated by India. As a bill paying adult the fascination had remained but the money to get there had made it a far off dream.

Clara turned and looked at the Doctor nervously. Had her choice been good enough, it was perhaps a bit tame when he'd offered her the universe and all of time?

'Excellent choice,' the Doctor replied, that excited grin beginning to grow on his face again. 'Now, I'll just input the coordinates,' he said, pressing a series of coloured buttons which looked like they belonged on an old typewriter, 'and if you just give me a moment.' He turned and stalked quickly down to the lower level. A series of loud scraping noises and clangs echoed up from below, followed by the sound of the Doctor coming back upstairs. With another loud bang, he dropped a small wooden box down on the floor in front of the console.

'What's that for?' Clara questioned as the Doctor just stood there looking very proud of himself.

'It's for you! I calculated that you'd be too short to reach the console so it's to give you extra height,' he stated, as though the whole thing was painfully obvious. Clara glanced warily between the box and its proud creator. Normally she would have been highly offended if anyone made any remark about her height and building her a booster seat would have definitely gained them a punch to the arm. But, once again, the Doctor's complete lack of understanding about social convention was oddly charming. The obvious care and thought he'd put into the box was endearing. 'You don't like it,' he said gruffly, beginning to bend down to take it away.

'No! No, it's great, thank you. I was just a bit caught up in the whole I'm in a time travelling box thing,' Clara blurted out, she'd evidently been thinking too long and had left rather an awkward silence in her wake. 'I mean it could do with a bit of paint but it'll do for now.' She watched with a sigh of relief as the Doctor straightened up and stood expectantly next to the box. She walked quickly over and stepped up, finding she was now level with the churning sea that was the Doctor's eyes. 'So what next?' she asked awkwardly, trying to redirect his attention back to the console.

'Right. So you take this lever,' he instructed, pointing towards a large bronze one, 'and I'll pull this one. The important thing is that we should really pull them together.'

'Ok. I'll count down then and we'll pull on 1,' Clara asserted, ignoring the frown followed by a slight smirk that rolled across the Doctor's face. She watched as they both grasped their respective levers. She could feel the side of the Doctor's palm lightly grazing hers, glancing surreptitiously down she smiled at the sight of his long fingers almost caressing the metal whilst her smaller hand was clasped resolutely around the lever. '3.....2.......1.' With an adrenaline filled jerk, she pulled her lever, feeling the Doctor's hand graze hers at the exact moment in time. She laughed joyously, tilting her head upwards to see the three metal rings begin to rotate. The room shook and tilted as they flew through time and space and throughout it all the Doctor never took his eyes off her. Just as quickly as it had begun, the TARDIS stopped its motion, returning to a slightly faster humming noise than before as though the ship itself was excited to be on the move again.

Without a word the Doctor turned and walked straight towards the doors. He pulled the left hand door open to reveal a blinding ray of sunshine and a stifling wave of hot air. Clara stumbled unsteadily towards him, following him blindly out into what she hoped was present day India. She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the light and immediately found her mouth open in astonishment. Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes ago Clara had been stood in her flat in London drinking a cup of tea, now she was clearly not in London anymore. Tall green and yellow buildings rose all around her, numerous windows littered the upper floors, almost all thrown open under the hot Indian sun. The ground floors were occupied with various shops including traditional clothing stores, tailoring, money exchanges, banks, bar and cafes. Despite the towering aspect of the buildings, a wide pedestrianised paved straight led through the area with small walled areas of vegetation spaced periodically along the way. Despite the stifling heat everyone around her was walking around in jeans and jackets. Clara instantly regretted her outfit of black jeans and a silk blouse.

'Welcome to Gangtok, capital city of Sikkim, the smallest and most northern state of India,' the Doctor announced, smiling. 'Lead the way Clara Oswald.'

Clara took her first step in India and almost laughed out loud at the solid sound of the paving stones underneath her feet. With more confidence she began to stroll down the main street, peering in at shops and watching the people around her. The Doctor followed by her side, occasionally pointing out a specific shop or whispering facts to her about the area. Once, as they turned the corner, Clara found herself grasping his hand with excitement, almost dragging the Doctor down the steep paved road lined with market stalls. A series of tangled telephone and electricity wires ran haphazardly between the buildings metres above their heads. She felt the Doctor stiffen as they slowed down, his hand twitching in hers. She continued to wander slowly, smiling softly as his fingers finally relaxed around hers.

'Are you hungry?' the Doctor asked hours later, still hand in hand with her.

'I am actually,' Clara replied sheepishly. Had her stomach really been rumbling that loudly? With a soft smile the Doctor tugged on her hand and started to lead her back up to the main street. At the far end he stopped, checked a small sign and walked into what Clara could only describe as the stairwell to somebody's flat. She hesitated.

'It doesn't look like much but they do the best moh mohs in town. First rule of time travel, never judge a book by its cover,' the Doctor said reassuringly, pointing upwards. With a nod, Clara finally let go of his hand and climbed up the stairs in front of him. She thought she heard the Doctor laughing softly behind her. As she reached the top of the stairs, she realised the Doctor had been right. A number of small plastic tables and chairs with menus were dotted around the room. Taking a seat, she picked up the menu and began to read.

'Doctor?' she asked.

'Hmmmmmm,' he replied with a smirk, raising his eyebrows in excitement.

'Why is the menu in English twice?' she asked slowly.

'It's not. One is in English the other is in Nepali,' he stated as soon as she finished asking the question. He noted her raised eyebrows and the purse of her lips. 'The TARDIS has a translation circuit, a telepathic field which enters your brain and allows you to read and hear everything in your native language.'

'So do you hear it in Gallifreyan and then speak to me in English?' she asked after a moment of thought.

'No I just hear it in English, I've spent too long saving the UK from impending doom. It seems to have worn off on me,' he deadpanned, calling over the waiter and ordering a set of fried chicken moh mohs and a bottle of 7up.

'Errrrr, one fried beef moh mohs and a 7up please,' Clara stammered out. The waiter looked shocked and then smiled broadly, writing both their orders on a small pad of paper. He nodded and left. Clara grinned at the Doctor who smiled happily back. 'I could get used to this,' she said, blushing at the implication of her words.

'You could you know,' the Doctor said softly, rubbing his hand through his curls, leaving them even wilder than the effect of the heat had. 'What I mean is, this could be a regular thing if you'd like. We could exchange talking about adventures to actually adventuring.'

'I think I'd like that a lot. But I'd have to have some rules. You'd have to return me the same time that'd I'd left, unless I say otherwise because of my work and friends..... It would probably have to be on weekends too,' she listed, feeling a growing excitement radiating from the man sat across from her. A similar feeling was fluttering around in her stomach.

'Every Saturday?' he asked, biting the pad of his thumb.

'Every Saturday,' she agreed as the waiter arrived with their drinks. 'Cheers!' She touched her bottle to the Doctor's with a clink.

'Cheers!'

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little note to say I'd highly recommend going to Sikkim if you ever travel to India, you do have to get a separate visa to enter the state but it is truly stunning. A massive thank you to Swansea University for giving me to opportunity to go there as part of my course!


	9. She Chose You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update, I was working on Saturday and then Eurovision took over my evening......  
> Anyway, hope you enjoy the next chapter and thank you to everyone so far who's left a comment (or multiple comments) and kudos!

'Back safe and sound only a few minutes after we left,' the Doctor announced, patting the outside of the TARDIS affectionately.

'Thank you,' Clara replied with a smile. 'Did you want to stay for a cup of tea or coffee?'

'I......' the Doctor started, biting the pad of this thumb nervously. A loud, insistent humming noise emanated from the TARDIS. The Doctor turned to his ship with a frown, listening as she continued to burble at him. 'Fine! Now will you stop interfering?' he replied, obviously annoyed at whatever the ship had said. He turned back round to Clara, 'I would love to stay for a cup of tea.'

'Good, great! I'll just go and-,' she replied, trying to hide her need to laugh, 'take a seat if you want.' She turned and headed into the kitchen, leaving the Doctor standing awkwardly in the middle of her living room. As soon as she was out of sight, Clara scrambled to fill up the kettle and quickly placed it back on its base to boil. She took two mugs out of the kitchen cupboard and slid open the drawer to grab a teaspoon. Placing it down on the counter next to the two mugs, she braced herself on the counter with her hands and took a deep, shaky breath. She'd just spent an amazing day with the Doctor, in India, using a time travelling space ship and now he'd agreed to have a cup of tea in her mundane flat. She squeezed her eyes tight shut and tried not to squeal like an excited teenage girl.

As the sound of the kettle began to quieten, Clara noticed the sound of heated whispers coming from the living room. Slowly and carefully she crept over to the door, quietly peeking her head round the door frame. There was the Doctor perched on the edge of her sofa, still in his coat and bouncing his leg repeatedly. He seemed to be in full frown mode, his large grey eyebrows drawn together above piercing blue eyes. He whispered angrily, 'I never gave my permission for you to sign me up to that pudding brain dating site!' The TARDIS burbled back haughtily. 'That is not the point.' A silence fell between the Doctor and his sentient ship. He stopped frowning and looked down at his hands with a sigh. A softer hum drifted from the blue box. The Doctor laughed wryly. 'You're right you know. I like her. I've been on my own too long, I forgot how it felt to have someone.'

Clara pulled her head back slowly, feeling her heart rapidly beating in her chest. She finished making the cups of tea and banged the door open with her hip to forewarn the Doctor of her returning presence. He was sat just as she'd last seen him, although his leg seemed to have stopped its incessant bouncing motion.

'Here you go,' she said, passing him a white mug with blue stripes. 'I didn't know if you took sugar or not so I brought in the pot,' she added, going to place it on the non existent coffee table before balancing it awkwardly on the arm of the sofa. She took a seat next to him and watched as he spooned seven lumps of sugar into his tea. 'Does she like me?' Clara asked, gesturing towards the TARDIS. The Doctor jerked, nearly spilling his tea all down himself.

'What makes you ask that?' he croaked out, holding the mug firmly in his long fingered grasp.

'I just thought that if we'd be travelling together then it would help if we got along that's all,' she replied innocently, taking a sip of her tea. The TARDIS made a high pitched amused babbling sound.

'She chose you,' the Doctor replied, drinking his tea quietly whilst eyeing Clara and the TARDIS.

'Well, thank you,' she smiled at the box. 'And thank you, I had an amazing day!' She placed her hand on the Doctor's shoulder, squeezing it gently.

'It was my pleasure Clara Oswald,' he said, reaching up to place his hand on top of hers. He ran his hand thumb gently over the surface of her skin before moving to stand, busying himself with balancing his mug on the sofa and straightening his coat. Clara glimpsed a small blush spreading across his cheeks. 'I should be going.'

'Yeah of course, next Saturday then?' she asked hopefully, standing up as he walked towards the TARDIS doors.

'10 am next Saturday,' he nodded, smiling happily as he stood in the threshold. 'Oh, before I forget,' he declared, reaching into the inside pocket of his coat, 'this is for you.' He handed her a small yellow cardboard box. 'It's Temi tea from Sikkim, I picked it up when you were looking at those sarries. It's loose leaf so I hope you have a strainer. If not I can get you one next time....'

'I love loose tea! This is so thoughtful, thank you Doctor,' she whispered in delight. Before she could overanalyse it, she had embraced him in a hug. Her elbows were jutting into the sides of the door and her face was pushed up against his chest. He felt as stiff as a board, obviously in shock from her display of affection. With reluctance she began to draw back from the warmth of his body. However, before she could fully withdraw, a large hand pressed against her back. Clara realised he'd managed to shift his height. Her chin was now resting on top of his shoulder, his own over hers. She shuddered slightly at the feel of his breath ghosting over the side of her neck.

'You're welcome Clara,' he mumbled gruffly, beginning to pull away slowly. She released him from her embrace and watched as he unfurled himself back to his original height.

'10 am next Saturday,' she whispered as he slowly stepped backwards still facing her.

'Next Saturday,' he said with a smile. He turned abruptly round and headed into the console room. The doors creaked shut and the harsh wheezing sound began. Clara's hair began to flutter in the impossible breeze and the TARDIS disappeared before her eyes. A jumbled mess of coffee table splinters, a precariously balanced mug and a box of Indian tea were the only clues that Clara Oswald had had an alien in her flat.


	10. Rome, 170 AD

Clara had spent the whole week counting down to Saturday. In between classes she'd spent time googling historical periods and famous historical figures, every evening when she was supposed to be marking she'd actually been daydreaming about strange planets and worlds from the future. She'd also admittedly spent a lot of time thinking about the Doctor. About the way he'd welcomed her into his life, about the feel of his hand safely in hers as they'd strolled through Gangtok, about the nervous way he'd given her the box of tea. Most especially though, she found her mind replaying their hug over and over again.

It was now 9 am on Saturday morning and Clara was fully dressed in a pair of high waisted cream linen trousers, a pale blue T shirt and converses. She glanced down at her pair of sunglasses on the sofa. If all went according to plan, and the Doctor accepted her choice of destination, then she'd be suitably dressed for the climate. Chewing her lip and eyeing the clock in the living room, she forced herself to relax, taking a seat on the sofa. She could feel the butterflies emerging in her stomach already. Waiting was not one of Clara Oswald's strong points.

She jumped suddenly as her phone started to vibrate in her pocket. Hoping that it wasn't the Doctor calling to cancel their date, she pulled out her phone and looked at the screen. It was Amy. She sighed with relief and swiped to answer the call.

'Hi Amy,' she said, settling back into the seat of her sofa.

'Hey! Just calling to see how everything went last weekend, sorry I haven't called sooner but work's been a nightmare this week,' Amy chatted. Clara could distinctly hear a small voice shouting hello in the background. 'Oh, Rory says hi too.'

'Hi Rory,' Clara replied with a smile.

'Hang on, I'm just gonna put you on speaker phone. We're just in the house so don't worry,' Amy added. Clara patiently listened to a series of rustling noises and beeps. 'Done. So spill, how did it go with this Doctor of yours?'

'Fine, good yeah we talked and you were right he was worried that I didn't like him, but we sorted it out when he came over so-'

'Woah! Did you just say he came over? Like, to your flat?' Amy interrupted loudly. Clara heard the scrape of a chair being pulled closer to the phone. She mentally slapped herself.

' _Errrr_ yeah well we went out for some food and he came back for a cup of tea before he left,' Clara replied slowly.

'So you went on a date?' Rory asked.

'Yeah,' Clara replied quickly, feeling herself blushing under the scrutiny of her friends.

'God Clara, this is the first guy you've shown any interest in for a long time and all the details you can give are a yes!' Amy said, clearly exasperated.

'Fine,' Clara laughed, imagining the look of consternation on her friend's face, 'it went really well, I had a great time and speaking of the time,' she said, looking at the clock again, 'I've got to go. I'm meeting him again in a few minutes.'

'Second date!' Amy sang sillily. 'Ok, fine you're off the hook this time. But next time we see you we want details.'

' _We_?' Rory asked incredulously.

'Oh don't pretend you don't want to know Rory,' Amy argued playfully.

'Ok, bye guys!' Clara said, desperately trying to end the conversation as an all too familiar breeze began to waft around her living room.

'Bye Clara!' Amy and Rory shouted in unison. Clara sighed as the call ended and her phone screen went black. She stood up with excitement and pocketed her phone as the blue box that was the TARDIS solidified in her living room. With barely a pause, the doors flung open revealing the Doctor stood in the entrance way. He was wearing the same outfit as before, albeit his coat was now lined with blue and seemed to be made of a soft velvet. Clara could already feel herself beaming happily as he wordlessly waved her inside. Turning to grab her sunglasses she quickly followed him.

'Where to this time Clara?' he announced, already standing next to her little box by the console unit. She sauntered slowly over to him, hoping to give him a chance to admire her tiny waist in her chosen outfit. Taking a small step up onto her box she tilted her head in consideration.

'I was the kid at school that liked Marcus Aurelius instead of WHAM, I even had his poster on my wall,' she explained slowly, gaining confidence at the complete lack of judgement in the Doctor's eyes, 'so I was wondering if we could meet him in Ancient Rome?'

'Who else did you have on your wall?' the Doctor said teasingly, beginning to input in the correct coordinates and date.

'Let's just say I've never really been into young conventional men,' Clara replied, smirking as the Doctor's finger slipped on the array of buttons before him. The butterflies in her stomach increased as he finally turned back to her, his blue eyes never leaving hers as he reached down to his lever. She gasped inaudibly as his hand deliberately brushed against hers. He smirked slightly, the action highlighting the edges of his cheekbones.

'Rome, 170 AD,' he said, pulling his lever down sharply as Clara quickly followed suit. The TARDIS began to groan into life.


	11. A Bad Time To Visit

'He's been on the throne for 9 years now although his brother died last year. But all in all, not a bad time to visit..... Well, asides from the wars with Germany. I should have pinpointed our arrival to when he was in the capital, not off on the battlefields,' the Doctor explained with a slight grimace as they walked through the streets of Rome.

 

'Beautiful bracelets and necklaces, 3 sesterce!' a nearby vendor shouted at Clara, trying to entice her towards his stall. Surprisingly, nobody had batted an eyelid at Clara and the Doctor's unconventional clothes, although the way Clara was staring openly at the streets around her was gaining some small giggles and country dweller remarks. The Doctor had so far led her down wide, white marble columned roads. Numerous statues of Roman Gods topped red tiled roofs of temples and grand buildings. The streets were crowded and chaotic and the noise was becoming overwhelming. Vendors shouted their wares, messengers ran through the mass, older men carried scrolls whilst small children played tag. The Doctor had taken her hand a few streets back after she'd nearly been swept away in a tide of people. He was now slowly guiding her through the city. Clara couldn't quite believe that it was all real, that she hadn't accidentally stumbled onto a film set or into a re-enactment.

 

The heat of the city was remarkable, almost oppressive in its haze. Clara now understood why the Romans had worn light, flowing materials shaped into tunics or togas. She was glad she had chosen to wear linen today and not denim, although she could still feel small beads of sweat gathering at the nape of her neck. She looked briefly at the Doctor, who had relinquished his hold on her hand and was now a little ahead of her, dressed all in black but seemingly perfectly comfortable in the heat. Maybe his clothing was made of a weird alien fibre which adjusted to the temperature?

 

Suddenly, a rough hand grabbed her from behind, pulling her backwards towards a side alley. She cried out to the Doctor, watching helplessly as he turned and tried to grasp for her hand.

 

'Shhhhhhh,' a voice hissed in her ear. 'Do you have it?'

 

'Have what?' Clara asked, wincing at the man's grasp on her wrist.

 

'The message from your mistress of course,' the man growled. 'Surely she told you how important this was!'

 

'I don't know what you're talking about, I'm just a visitor to the city,' Clara answered, desperately hoping the Doctor would arrive any moment now.

 

'Commodus' rule must end before his insanity infects the centre of the Roman Empire. Now give me the message from Lucilla!' the man shouted, shoving Clara up against the wall of the nearest building. She looked round shakily, feeling eyes deliberately shy away from hers. The citizens of Rome continued to flow undisturbed past her.

 

'She's not the person you're looking for, believe me,' a Scottish voice said harshly from just behind her attacker's shoulder. The man's head whipped round, dragging Clara in front of him like a shield.

 

'Who are you?'

 

'I'm the Doctor. Let go of Clara right now before anything gets further out of hand,' the Doctor said flatly, frowning at the man still gripping Clara. Before he could have a chance to reply, Clara swiftly drew back her elbow and felt it collide with the soft mass of the man's stomach. The man groaned loudly, releasing his hold on her, and doubled up in pain.

 

'Like he said, I'm not the girl you're looking for,' Clara spat angrily at him, pushing back her hair from her face and wiping down her trousers. She extended her hand blindly and felt the reassuring comfort of the Doctor's own enveloping hers.

 

'Guards!' the man wheezed, staring intently down the alley way back towards the main street. Clara and the Doctor followed his gaze to see two armoured men strolling past the entrance. They paused and peered into the gloom, spotting the doubled over man and his attackers. 'Thieves!' He shouted, pointing at the two travellers.

 

'I may have got this all wrong,' the Doctor said quickly, gripping her hand tighter.

 

'What do you mean?' Clara asked frantically, feeling a stream of adrenaline starting to pump its way around her body.

 

'This was definitely a bad time to visit,' the Doctor replied, tugging her hand as he began to sprint down the alley away from the now pursuing guards. 'The TARDIS should be this way!' He shouted as they dodged and bumped their way through the crowd.

 

'Does this sort of thing normally happen?' Clara found herself gasping as they turned a bend to finally see the familiar shape of the TARDIS waiting with its door's open.

 

'Yes, does that matter?' the Doctor replied, breathing regularly, not so much as a bead of sweat on his face.

 

'Absolutely not!' Clara answered, laughing as they stumbled through the doors and into the console room. She collapsed onto a nearby seat, breathing heavily, unable to stop the manic grin on her face. She felt rather than saw the Doctor approach.

 

'Are you alright? You weren't hurt were you?' he asked insistently, bending down to be able to look at her face.

 

'I'm fine,' she reassured him. 'What was that all about anyway?'

 

'I landed at the wrong time, must have entered the information wrong, it was 182 AD,' he muttered gently, picking up her wrist, his thumb softly poking small bruises. 'Commodus was on the throne and it seems that man thought you were a messenger from Lucille, a messenger helping to plot Commodus' assassination.' He pulled the same strange device from his pocket when she'd first met him and began the same series of sweeps in the air in front of her. He nodded to himself and picked up her wrist again.

 

'What is that?' Clara asked quietly, mesmerised by the deft swipes of the Doctor's thumb over her bruised wrist.

 

'It's a sonic screwdriver. I was scanning you to see if you had any injuries,' he explained softly, still stroking her wrist carefully.

 

'And did I?' she whispered. He raised his head to look at her.

 

'No,' he finally whispered back. 'And I never want you to.' He finally let go of her wrist, resting it carefully on top of her thigh.

 

'You know,' she said, breaking the tension that had settled over the pair, 'you owe me a coffee table and a meeting with Marcus Aurelius now.' He barked out a loud laugh, wheezing as he continued. His eyes crinkling up with joy. Clara felt a wave of affection wash over her as she watched him, silently making herself a promise to try and make him laugh as often as possible.


	12. Restlessness

The flat was quiet, rain thrummed against the bedroom window. The individual pitter patter of raindrops acted as an accompaniment to the hum of a laptop. A single light illuminated the bedroom, glinting off the mirrors on the dressing table. Beneath the tangle of covers and lumpy mounds of pillows, Clara Oswald was wide awake. She stared unseeingly at the cream ceiling. A glance at the alarm clock some time ago had told her it was one o'clock in the morning. She sighed heavily and turned onto her side, tucking one arm under the cool side of a pillow, she rested her head on the surface above. With a wince she pulled her arm back out and peered at her wrist. Large finger shaped bruises stared back at her, light shades of purple fading into hints of yellow. She'd been wearing long sleeves at work to avoid any awkward questions but she'd still seen the looks from her colleagues as she'd reached for a mug in the staff room, her sleeve riding up. If only they knew that she'd got them whilst wandering the streets of Ancient Rome.

 

She'd been unable to sleep properly since Saturday. The Doctor had dropped her off, as promised, only a few minutes after they'd left. She'd hugged him just before she'd exited the TARDIS, revelling in the feel of his arms clutching her tightly. As she'd let go and turned to leave, he'd grasped her hand and slipped something soft into her palm. 'A nicer momento than the ones on your wrist,' he'd murmured shyly. She had felt his eyes watching her as she'd walked to the door.

 

The soft object had been a small leather pouch. Pulling open the draw strings, she'd tipped its contents onto her hand. A series of small golden coins had appeared, each one marked with the head of Marcus Aurelius. Initially she'd wondered where to put them. The logical part of her brain had told her they were probably worth a fortune being real gold, that she should probably hide them somewhere in a draw or in a tin under lock and key. Her heart however couldn't bear hiding away such beautiful objects, such a thoughtful gift from the Doctor. Her heart had won. The small leather pouch was now placed on her dressing table, surrounded by her makeup and jewellery.

 

Her inability to sleep hadn't been due to the coins however. Her brain couldn't stop processing and re-running through the events of Saturday. It was as though her time in Ancient Rome had been too short for her brain to fully comprehend the sounds, noises and colours. Every time she tried to rest and sleep, her brain recollected a new detail she had missed at the time. The distinct smell of bread as they'd passed a bakers, the exact blue of a jade necklace worn by a noble woman, the sound of a man's heavy breathing in her ear, the feel of the rough stone wall against her cheek. She wouldn't lie and say that she'd forgotten the whole incident, that she'd come away completely mentally unscathed by it all, but living in London as a young, single woman had taught her a few things about self defence. Unfortunately that hadn't been the first time she'd been threatened or grabbed violently by a man. It was however the first time the man had been sober.

 

On Saturday night she'd waded through her box of DVD's to find her copy of _Gladiator_. The emotional roller coaster of watching the film, paired with the heart clenching music of Hans Zimmer had exhausted her enough to eventually fall asleep. Sunday night had been harder, her brain had been a mixture of Rome and lessons plans for the following school day. The alarm clock had woken her in the morning after what had seemed to be only hours of sleep. Which all led to the continuous restlessness of tonight.

 

Clara turned and looked at her alarm clock. It was 2 am. Her phone buzzed loudly, vibrating against the wooden surface of her bedside table. Who could possibly be messaging her at this time in the morning? She unplugged the phone from her charger and unlocked it. Warily, she brought the blindingly bright screen up to her eyes.

 

> **I've fixed the navigation system, shouldn't land in the wrong time again. The old girl wasn't very happy about the whole thing though, kept trying to tell me it was my fault not hers.**
> 
>  
> 
> _Are you sure your finger didn't just slip?_
> 
>  
> 
> **Has she been messaging you when I haven't been looking? Are you colluding?**
> 
>  
> 
> _Haha no._
> 
> _Or are we?.........._
> 
> _Thank you for the coins by the way._
> 
>  
> 
> **No problem. I don't tend to carry money, or really use it actually. I know how you humans love shiny things, especially females of your species.**
> 
>  
> 
> _Are you sure you're not talking about magpies?_
> 
>  
> 
> **I can tell the difference between a bird and a human being Clara!**

 

Clara soon found that the bright light was beginning to strain her eyes, her eyelids were becoming increasingly heavy, not to mention the phone was now balanced precariously in her hand. With a small smile of triumph she stifled a yawn.

 

> _Sorry Doctor, it's 2:20am and I have work tomorrow. I'm going to have to say goodnight! x_
> 
>  
> 
> **Goodnight Clara x**

 

Clara blearily plugged her charger back in her phone and snuggled back down under her covers. Reaching out as an afterthought, she flicked the bedside lamp off and collapsed almost instantly into a deep sleep. Unlike every other night, instead of Ancient Rome, Clara found her dreams riddled with striking blue eyes, wheezing laughter and soft smiles.


	13. Daemonion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update, I was working on Saturday in the studio and then had a busy day yesterday with my mates. Hopefully this chapter will make up for it! 
> 
> A massive thank you to everyone who's commented on this story so far, it brightens up my day every time I get to read a new one.
> 
> Enjoy!

'I'll let you decide today, although the future would be pretty cool,' Clara said, watching the Doctor at his workbench below the console unit. He was peering intently at what looked like an old analogue radio through a pair of steampunk goggles. The layers of magnifying glasses over the lenses gave his eyes a bug eyed appearance as he finally turned to look at her. Clara tried to stifle a giggle but failed miserably as he raised an eyebrow at her antics. With a shake of his head he pulled the goggles off, causing his hair to stick up wildly in all directions. Clara stood up from her perch on the bottom step of the stairs and approached the Doctor. She slowly reached up to his hair on tip toes and casually flattened down the mess. Half way through her task she realised that his knees were now bent slightly and he was staring wide eyed at her in shock. With one last stroke she stepped backwards.

 

'Right,' he muttered, his cheeks flushed, 'I think it's time for your first experience of another planet.' He stalked past her quickly and climbed the stairs. Clara heard the TARDIS rumble and the tapping of buttons on the console. She turned and followed him up the stairs back to the console room. 'Come on then, what are you waiting for?' he asked impatiently, gesturing to her usual position by his side. With a small smirk she strolled slowly over to him, watching him roll his eyes at her childishness. Taking her usual lever in one hand, she turned sideways to find the Doctor watching her. Without a word or a nod the two synchronised their levers and felt the TARDIS begin its journey through the time vortex.

 

'Where are we going then?' Clara asked, a familiar jolt of adrenaline whistling its way through her body. The vibrations of the metal panelled floor jolting her voice minutely.

 

'Daemonion. A relatively small planet in the Tritus nebula about 2000 years in your future,' the Doctor replied, pushing himself away from the console unit with his hip and heading towards the doors. Clara followed quickly behind. As usual the Doctor pushed open the door, taking a small step backwards to allow her to exit first. Clara stepped out into a large open square surrounding by grand towering buildings constructed of an amalgamation of marble and glass. The first thing she noticed was a humungous strange blue orb floating in the air in the middle of the square. The second thing was that all the people looked relatively human. Their clothes however were definitely more futuristic, materials flickered with electronics as Clara watched a woman's coat change from black to red in a blink of an eye. The third thing that Clara noticed was that there was now a small owl perched on the Doctor's shoulder. It ruffled its feathers as the Doctor ran a hand through his own hair.

 

'You have an owl,' Clara said with bemusement. The Doctor turned his head and was met with a pair of bright yellow eyes watching him intently.

 

'Oh, that's interesting. With my last face I had a giraffe. Very awkward having a giraffe following you everywhere,' the Doctor stated. Clara frowned, watching the Doctor tilt his head at the owl. The owl promptly followed suit.

 

'I don't understand,' Clara said.

 

'Didn't I say? On Daemonion every citizen has a ' _familiar spirit_ ' as they call them. Animals that follow you around, live with you, are part of you really. Every visitor to the planet gets a temporary one which hasn't yet found its match, it seems I've been given Archimedes for the day,' the Doctor replied. Archimedes gave a small hoot of approval. 'I don't understand why an owl though,' he mumbled gruffly.

 

'It's the eyebrows,' Clara immediately stated. She laughed as both Archimedes and the Doctor lowered their eyebrows grumpily at her. 'So where's mine?' she asked excitedly. The Doctor simply pointed behind her. Clara spun around slowly, following the direction of the his finger. There, sat on the edge of a small marble wall, was a black cat with the biggest, roundest eyes Clara had ever seen. It leapt gracefully down and sauntered over to her, rubbing itself immediately on her leg and purring softly. 'Oh, hello you, aren't you gorgeous?' she said, stroking it between its ears. The Doctor rolled his eyes and sighed. Archimedes hunched his shoulders and hooted.

 

'Her name's Nimbus. Nimbus? What a stupid name for a black cat.....' the Doctor grumbled, eyeing the cat suspiciously.

 

'Not a cat person Doctor?' Clara asked amusedly, continuing to stroke Nimbus as she purred.

 

'Well obviously I am, I like you don't I,' the Doctor said, bending slowly down so as not to disturb his little owl. He cautiously reached out a hand towards Nimbus, unsuccessfully hiding a small smile as the cat bumped its head against his fingers.

 

'She likes you too,' Clara whispered.

 

'Pardon?' the Doctor asked, still stroking the cat.

 

'I said, what do you mean by your old face?' Clara questioned, hoping he didn't notice the rather large shift in topic of conversation.

 

'Ah,' the Doctor said looking awkward. He walked slowly off towards the marble wall, jumping up to sit on the edge. Clara followed, something that was increasingly becoming a habit of hers. She hopped up next to him, kicking her feet as they dangled in the air. She waited, watching as the Doctor absentmindedly stroked the head of Archimedes with one long finger. 'My people have a special ability to regenerate when our bodies are close to death,' he spoke softly. 'We can change our entire bodies including our faces to something or someone completely new.' Archimedes softly nudged the side of the Doctor's head with his own. 'This me is quite new actually, still trying to figure out the intricacies of it,' he admitted, turning to face Clara shyly. She took his hand from where it had been laid in his lap and brought it to rest in her own. She felt the Doctor relax as the weight of his confession was lifted. Archimedes hooted softly and flew down from his perch. He shuffled slowly along the edge of the wall, coming to rest next to Nimbus, her tail flicking lazily as she watched the bird. The little owl jutted his head out. Clara watched with curiosity at the display. Slowly, Nimbus came closer and bumped her own head against the proffered head of Archimedes. The owl's eyes slipped closed and the cat purred. Clara turned to the Doctor, who it seemed had also been watching the two animals. With a soft smile he brought their conjoined hands up to his mouth and kissed the back of hers lovingly. His lips lingered against her skin, his eyes watching her, as though he was trying to capture every second of this moment in his memory for eternity. Clara sighed inwardly with disappointment as he finally lowered their hands, letting them rest in his own lap this time. With his other hand he pointed at a man walking across the square, a small armadillo scuttled quickly alongside him. 'What do you think he does?' the Doctor asked.

 

'Builder,' Clara answered confidently. 'What about her?' She pointed towards a tall, smartly dressed woman carrying a handbag and supporting a large eagle on her shoulder.

 

'Oh some big shot in a company. Her office is obviously on the top floor,' the Doctor replied, his eyes already scanning for their next target. 'Him?' he pointed.

 

'I dunno but I think we need to talk about the elephant in the room,' Clara stated flatly. The Doctor turned and looked at her seriously. A few seconds passed in silence. She couldn't take it anymore. Clara burst out laughing, feeling tears starting to well in the corner of her eyes. The Doctor soon followed suit, the endearing sound of his wheezing laughter filled the air.

 

A large man walked confidently through the crowd across the square. The gigantic grey shape of an elephant plodded slowly after him.

 


	14. Not Bad Clara Oswald

She was hot, sweaty and her legs were beginning to ache. The incessant pounding of music in her ears was starting to echo the steady thumping of her heart. Gritting her teeth, she pushed on harder. Only a few minutes more.

 

'Alright, good job everyone! Time for a wind down, take it nice and slow but keep those pedals turning!' announced the enthusiastic instructor through his microphone head set at the front of the class.

 

Relaxing back into her saddle, Clara pulled her towel off the handlebars and wiped her forehead, prying her sweaty fringe from her skin. Making sure to keep her legs moving at a slow, steady pace, she turned and looked over at Amy.

 

'Wow, you've got a hell of a lot fitter since we last tried this,' Amy panted, taking a quick swig from her water bottle.

 

'I had to cover some P.E. classes at school,' Clara lied. It had turned out that travelling regularly with the Doctor had meant running regularly with the Doctor. She had lost count of the number of times they'd been chased by angry mobs, angry soldiers or angry citizens in general. Angry alien villains seemed to be the new trend as of late. Most recently had been last Saturday after the Doctor had thrown her his sonic screwdriver in the middle of a dinner party whilst he was engaged in a sword fight with the Count of Rodan. Having to run hand in hand with the Doctor, through endless stately home corridors, pursued by angry guards, in the pitch black, had definitely got her heart thumping faster. How was she to know the Doctor had given her the sonic to unlock the windows for a quick escape rather than smashing all the chandeliers and lighting fixtures for a more chaotic escape? It had all worked out in the end though, it always did.

 

'Don't P.E. teachers just normally stand on the side lines and watch the kids do all the exercise?' Amy asked after finally slowing her long legs down to a stop and carefully getting off the spin bike.

 

'Maybe I'm just a very committed teacher,' Clara said, avoiding Amy's sceptical look as she dismounted and picked up her towel and water bottle. She winced at the feeling of her taught leg muscles protesting at any more movement.

 

'Anyway, where's Rory? I thought this was gonna be a team thing,' she grumbled, feeling slightly inadequate amongst all the leggy, fit females exiting the spin class.

 

'He's on shift today,' Amy said, wrapping her arm around Clara's shoulder. 'Don't worry, you look much hotter in lycra than them,' she whispered conspiratorially. Clara snorted. 'He did however say that he'd meet us later at yours for a takeaway.'

 

'Kind of defeats the object of all this exercise don't you think?' she asked Amy, taking the stairs back down to the foyer very carefully.

 

'It all evens out in the end,' Amy grinned.

 

* * *

 

 

'What happened to your coffee table?' Amy shouted from the living room. Clara heard her flop loudly onto the sofa.

 

'Oh, the leg went on it and it collapsed. I haven't got round to getting a new one yet,' she shouted back from the kitchen. She pulled down plates, cutlery and glasses from her cupboards, placed them on the side board and then picked up her laptop from the small kitchen table. Turning it on and balancing it on the palm of her hand, she headed back into the living room and put it on the sofa.

 

'Where's all this come from?' Amy remarked, gesturing to a shelf in a small alcove in the wall which Clara had previously used for dumping letters and leaflets she couldn't be bothered to sort out. She'd cleared the shelf a few weeks back, deciding instead to use it as a sort of treasure trove of her travels. A small black cat statue made of obsidian sat in the centre, its unusually large eyes stared back at Clara. She bit her lip nervously. Amy was stood by the shelf, a small teacup in her hand the Doctor had pilfered from Jane Austen.

 

'Oh just some stuff I've picked up from going out with the Doctor. It's kind of a game we play to find the best things we can buy with whatever spare change we have,' she explained lamely, kicking herself for not only an absolutely pathetic excuse but also for bringing the Doctor into the conversation.

 

'That's kind of sweet in a slightly odd way.' She put back the teacup. 'I like the fake signed photos of Audrey Hepburn and Fred Astaire.'

 

'Thanks,' Clara said brightly. Thank god Amy had assumed that they must be fakes and not that Clara had begged the Doctor to introduce her to Audrey Hepburn on the set of Roman Holiday and to Fred Astaire when they'd been having a drink at the Ritz.

 

'So how's it going with the Doctor, you know I don't think you've shown me a picture of him yet.....' Amy asked nonchalantly, collapsing back onto the sofa.

 

'It's going good thanks, I er really like him,' Clara admitted with a blush, pulling her phone out of her back pocket. 'This is him. It's not the best of photos-'

 

'Oh give it here,' Amy said sighing and taking the phone out of Clara's hand. She stared at the screen, glanced at Clara and then looked back at the photo again. 'Totally your type. He's got that silver fox thing going on. Not bad Clara Oswald,' Amy teased, handing back her phone with a smile.

 

'You think?' Clara asked shyly, examining the photo again for herself.

 

'Definitely,' Amy nodded.

 

There was a loud knock at the door. 'That'll be Rory,' Clara said, pocketing her phone and padding off to the front door. She opened it to reveal a tired but happy looking Rory.

 

'I have been craving Chinese all day!' he exclaimed, hugging her and stepping inside to pull off his trainers.

 

'The laptop's ready and waiting,' she replied with a smile.


	15. Jane and Mr Rochester

It was Saturday again and Clara was waiting for the Doctor to finish whatever he was doing in the console room. Watching him had been rather entertaining for a while but, no matter how attractive he looked in a waistcoat and rolled up shirt sleeves, Clara had soon gotten bored. Eyeing the glowing door on the lower level, she decided to finally explore the Doctor's home fully. He'd mentioned in passing conversation that the TARDIS had its own swimming pool, cinema room and park, but what she most wanted to find was the library. Clara loved libraries, the chance to borrow and read hundreds of books for free. But the concept of this library was mind boggling. There were books in there that hadn't even been written yet, original first editions of Jane Austen, hand written manuscripts by Leonardo de Vinci.

 

The problem Clara soon found was that the TARDIS was seemingly endless. Every corridor looked the same, lined with door upon door. She'd resorted to opening doors randomly, which was how she'd discovered the swimming pool. As soon as she'd pushed open the door, the unmistakeable smell of chlorine had assaulted her nose along with a rush of warm, wet air. The main pool was Olympic sized with sparklingly clear water. A smaller pool was situated to one side with various floating pool objects on the surface. Clara laughed at the image of the Doctor sitting on the inflatable unicorn, clutching its pink mane as it bobbed slowly across the surface of the water. Snaking and looping in between the two pools was a lazy river. She also noticed a hot tub bubbling away in the corner. Maybe she should suggest swimming next time the Doctor asked....

 

Clara had found not just one park, but four different parks. There was really nothing remarkable about them at all. In fact, all four were almost identical, like the ship or its owner had forgotten about the first one, perhaps deemed it lost, and had built another exactly the same. The only slightly odd aspect was the swing set. They looked older, more worn than the rest of the immaculate area.

 

One door had led to a giant bouncy castle room with a ball pit. Another to a ten pin bowling alley. The most recent door she'd opened had been a recording studio equipped with several microphones and a drum kit.

 

'How the hell does he find anything in here?' she muttered crossly to herself. It was then that she noticed a small set of blue lights slowly pulsing along the edges of the floor. As she walked they lit up ahead, guiding her deeper into the depth of the TARDIS. Eventually they flowed up from the floor and spread around the archway of an old wooden door, pulsing invitingly at her. 'Thank you,' she whispered, placing her hand on the wall beside the door. The lights dulled and slowly disappeared. With a growing sense of excitement, Clara pushed open the door. She gasped. The sound echoed around the room and back towards her. Row upon row of wooden stacks stared back at her. The oak wooden floorboards creaked underneath her feet as she found herself walking open mouthed down the main aisle of the library. Looking upwards she noted a second, third, fourth and fifth floor, each connected by a large sliding ladder. The end of each stack was labelled in what Clara now understood to be Gallifreyan, the native language of the Doctor. Each symbol was etched onto the wood in soft gold, reflecting off the small reading lamps that were dotted on tables within the aisles of books. Running her hand reverentially along the spines of the books, Clara laughed at the absurd nature of the place. _War and Peace_ was next to a set of _Mr Men_ books. _Lord of the Rings_ by a book on tree rings and their application in glaciology.

 

Walking along one particular aisle, Clara found herself emerging into a small circle surrounded by piles of books placed strategically around an old, threadbare sofa. The sofa was wedged into an alcove in the wall below a window. A small coffee table was placed in front of the sofa, several mug stains littered the wooden surface. As she approached the sofa, weaving her way carefully around the teetering towers of books, she heard the soft tap of her shoes disappear. Looking downwards she smiled at a series of mismatched Persian carpets. Sinking into the sofa with a sigh she peered round at the view through the window. Soft swathes of red grass swayed gently in the wind, a large glass orb sat in the distance with something golden shining in its centre. The sky was tinted orange, two suns hung prominently in the sky. Turning back to face the library, she noted the books laid open on the coffee table. _Jane Eyre_ was most noticeable, despite being covered in pencilled notes along the margins. She peered closer at one particular note:

 

_Jane is definitely Clara, so would she fall for someone like ~~me~~ Mr Rochester?_

 

Clara ran her index finger slowly over his words. 'Yes she would,' she whispered, realising the true extent of her feelings. She'd fallen for him the moment he'd sent her that picture from Buckingham Palace. She'd fallen so blindly and heavily she'd hardly reacted when she discovered he was an alien. She lived for Saturdays, for his laughter, for the feel of his hand in hers, for every moment in his company. With a small shake of her head and a little smile she picked up _Sense and Sensibility_ from the table, sank backwards into the sofa and curled her legs up underneath her.

 

Several hours later, Clara was ripped from the word of gentlemanly suitors, balls and ribbons by the Doctor shouting her name with a noticeable hint of panic.

 

'I'm over here Doctor!' she shouted back. A few seconds later the Doctor appeared in the circle, oil stains marking his white shirt, his hair in disarray and his eyes frantically scanning her up and down.

 

'I once lost my robot dog in the TARDIS for two months, it's not the best idea to go wandering off alone,' he said sternly. He exhaled loudly, glancing between Clara and the coffee table. With a sudden lunge he grabbed the copy of Jane Eyre. Holding it in his hands he looked downwards, discovered he wasn't wearing his coat and therefore had no pockets to hide the book in. Spinning wildly around on the spot he deposited the book on the furthest tower away from the sofa. Turning back around he found Clara pretending to read her book, hiding a knowing, sentimental smile behind the pages of Jane Austen. He approached her slowly, tentatively sinking into the sofa next to her. As so often was the case, Clara decided to be bold and immediately shifted so she was leaning into him, her head resting on his shoulder. She felt his arm rise up onto the back of the sofa. She snuggled in deeper and resumed reading. After several minutes of the soft turning of pages and measured breathing, the Doctor's arm inched down from the sofa top and curled around Clara's waist, his hand resting on her stomach. She continued reading, enjoying the comforting warmth of his body entwined with hers.


	16. Lewis Chessmen

'It's a Monday,' the Doctor said, standing in the middle of the pavement, oblivious to the streams of people rushing around him. Stepping forward quickly to avoid a pair of businessmen, Clara took the Doctor's hand and pulled him sharply to the side, their backs now pressed firmly against cold black railings.

 

'I explained remember, it's a bank holiday so I'm free today. I thought you'd be glad to spend more time together?' Clara asked with uncertainty. It was odd sometimes how uncertain he made her. How having the Doctor in her life had thrown everything off balance. Off balance in a good way. In the best of ways. She found herself looking up at him, pinning her bottom lip with her teeth whilst she waited for a reply. Wordlessly he took her hand between both of his own and stared straight back at her.

 

'More than glad,' he said quietly. So quietly that Clara could barely hear him over the rush of traffic and general hum of London. He let go of her hand and turned to peer through the gates behind them. His head tilted perceptibly to the side as he turned back around, shoving his hands in his trouser pockets.

 

'What? I like it, it's interesting,' she huffed. With his hands still in his pockets, Clara looped her arm through his and pulled him gently towards the entranceway. A large ornate marble building stood atop a set of wide steps. Giant pillars stood proudly in a row underneath the triangular roof of the building, guarding the open door to receive hundreds upon thousands of visitors. Nestled into the side of the Doctor, Clare quickly ascended the steps and entered the gleaming white entrance hall. A large round inner structure sat in the middle of the majestic space, the domed glass ceiling above their heads. The comforting sound of a large number of people trying to be quiet echoed around the space, the tapping of feet on hard white floors filtered through the cacophonous hall. Taking a moment to breath it all in, Clara could already feel herself relaxing. As a kid her mum and dad had taken her here on their special trips to London. They'd spent hours leading her through all the rooms, patiently explaining everything to her, having to almost drag her away each and every time to promise that they'd come back soon. After her mum had died she'd visited once with just her dad. The memories had been too painful for him, he'd not come back since. Clara had bought a membership, her way of saying thank you for all the good memories.

 

'You know, I could have taken you to see any of this stuff in its actual time period. No barriers or glass, you could hold it all in your hands,' the Doctor said, breaking her out of her thoughts.

 

'You let me spend time in your safe space, I just wanted to show you mine,' she explained softly. 'But we can go back to the TARDIS if you want,' she offered.

 

'No!' he exclaimed loudly, several people turned to stare at them curiously from around the hall. 'Lead the way,' the Doctor gestured with his free hand. With an excited bounce to her step, Clara started to walk past the bookshop and gift shop and into a room at the back of the hall. They entered a smaller room with two glass cabinet running the length of the walls, in the centre stood a large statue on a plinth. Clara stopped in front of the grey monolith and craned her neck upwards. She then glanced at the Doctor to find him stroking his chin and frowning.

 

'Not a fan of the Easter Island statue?' she whispered. The Doctor turned his head slowly to look at her, his frown gradually disappearing as he did so.

 

'My chin wasn't that big,' he stated.

 

'Your chin?'

 

'Yes, the inhabitants of the island built the statues as a thank you, said they modelled them on me. The previous me,' he explained. 'I had a bit of a chin but.......' Clara laughed at the affronted look on the Doctor's face as he continued to study the statue.

 

'Is this whole museum going to be full of things built for you?' she asked through soft giggles. The Doctor winked badly at her, smiling broadly as Clara laughed even harder. 'I'll take that as a yes then!'

 

Almost an hour later and after countless stories from the Doctor pertaining to several of the artefacts in the museum, Clara found herself peering quietly at the Lewis Chessmen. The room was surprisingly quiet considering they were one of the most famous of the artefacts in the museum. Clara felt the Doctor approach her, watching her wordlessly as she continued to examine the ivory chess pieces.

 

'My mum made her own set when she was in university out of resin,' she said, straightening up to circle the other side of the glass cabinet. The Doctor stayed where he was, watching her through the glass. 'She made them with her boyfriend at the time and when they split up he took the moulds and she took the pieces. We used to play with them when I was little. Not chess, I was too small. I just really loved the knights on their horses and the queen on her throne. Mum got so upset when they broke, they fell out of the cupboard one day. I'd never seen her cry like that. I don't think she ever did again...... She gave the box and board away to a charity shop in the end.' She ran her eyes over the pointed helmet of the knights and the rather comically small horses underneath them. Looking up she noticed the Doctor continuing to watch her, his soft blue eyes completely ignoring the chess pieces in favour of her. 'I didn't cry when she died, I didn't even cry at the funeral or when we visited her gravestone. I think I was too numb you know? I came here a few months later on my own, the moment I saw these I burst out crying in a room full of strangers. I felt like such an idiot, everyone was staring but all I could see was my mum plodding the pieces across the chessboard for me.' The Doctor slowly walked round the cabinet, stopping at her side. 'I've never told anyone that you know?' she whispered, biting back the sting of tears before turning to face him. The Doctor stepped closer and enveloped her in a hug, his arms encasing her, the warmth tingling through her body. She nuzzled her cheek into the soft velvet of his coat. The Doctor kissed the top of her head before resting his chin back atop it. They stood like that for a few more minutes before the bustle of a tour group swept inside the room, disturbing the pair from their private oasis. Clara pulled back reluctantly and stepped away from the cabinet as the tour guide began to explain the history of the pieces.

 

'I think that's probably enough history for one day,' Clara joked, feeling surprisingly unawkward despite the intimate, but rather public moment she'd just shared with the Doctor. 'I was thinking we could go and see Van Gogh in the National Gallery.' Before the Doctor could answer, the loud trill of a phone interrupted. Clara frowned, looking confusedly around the room for the source of the noise. The tour guide had turned to frown at them, several of the members of the group following suit. With a wave of embarrassment Clara realised the Doctor was fumbling inside his coat pockets. He finally pulled out an old Nokia from the 90's, frowned and stopped the phone's shrill tone. Without a word he turned and strode quickly from the room, heading swiftly back towards the entrance hall. Clara muttered an apology to the tour and its guide before hurrying quickly after him. She spotted him stood in the corner of the entrance hall behind the information desk speaking angrily into the phone.

 

'I'm busy,' he said with a growl, his eyes widening as he saw Clara approaching him. He sighed into the phone and rolled his eyes as she stopped next to him, leaning against the wall as she waited. 'Is it really an emergency if I have a time machine?.......... Ok, fine but I'm destroying this phone as soon as this is over!' he replied petulantly, stabbing the end call button with his finger. Clara stood patiently, her arms crossed waiting for an explanation. 'I'm sorry,' he muttered, his voice returning to a gentle burr.

 

'Is that like your Batphone,' she joked. He ran his hand through his hair, before shoving the phone back into his pockets.

 

'I told them I didn't need one but Kate must have slipped it into my coat,' he grumbled.

 

'How wouldn't you have noticed a phone in your pocket?' Clara asked with bemusement.

 

'My pockets are spatially distorted,' he explained, 'bigger on the inside,' he elaborated at the frown on her face. 'Also they only call in an emergency.'

 

'Who?' she questioned, starting to walk back towards the door and inevitably the TARDIS.

 

'UNIT, United Nations Intelligence Taskforce,' he stated, stalking behind her grumpily.

 

'Like the FBI or MI6 but for aliens?' she shot back over her shoulder, shivering as they emerged from the museum back out into the cold of a dreary London day.

 

'Kind of,' he acquiesced.

 

'Come on then!' she exclaimed. 'It is an emergency after all.'


	17. UNIT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a few weeks, life took over again. Hope you enjoy the new chapter!

'So where are we going?' Clara asked as the Doctor expertly operated the TARDIS controls. Instead of answering he swung one of the screens round on its track and pulled it out away from the pillar and towards her. Clara stepped forward and watched as an image of the Earth rotated on the screen. After a few seconds a red, pulsating dot appeared and the image zoomed into the surface of the Earth. A map then appeared of a series of buildings next to a long, winding river. The red dot was slap bang in the middle of what looked like a castle shaped building. 'Is that the Tower of London?'

 

'Also known as UNIT headquarters,' the Doctor replied, already striding out of the open TARDIS doors. He paused just outside, waiting for her to catch up. As soon as she exited the box he carefully pulled the door shut behind her, patting the wooden frame. 'Be back soon old girl,' he mumbled.

 

The commanding presence of the Tower of London stood in front of them. Towers with green rooves sprouted out of each corner of the building, the British flag hung limply in the breeze, attached to a pole rising from inside the central courtyard. Numerous tourists milled around the outside of the building, taking photos using selfie sticks. Several beefeaters in their distinctive red outfits guarded the entrance, large ceremonial pikes in hand. A chilly breeze disturbed an unkindness of ravens. Their haughty caws rising above the noise of London. Clara's attention was drawn by five ravens sat on a set of railings. They seemed to be staring straight at her. Their coal black eyes glinting mischievously.

 

'Doctor?' Clara asked, keeping her eyes firmly on the odd set of birds.

 

'Ah!' the Doctor pronounced, smirking and strolling over to the bench directly in front of the ravens. He took a seat calmly and waved at the birds. She watched with interest as their heads turned haltingly to follow his movements. Clara approached the bench and took a seat next to him. The coldness of the metal seeped through her black jeans. She pulled her leather jacket closer around her body.

 

'Hello Doctor,' a female voice to their right announced. Clara turned her head sharply to find a tall, blonde woman dressed in a traditional trench coat and trouser suit. A pale blue silk scarf was wrapped artfully around her neck. She smiled as the Doctor shifted and grumbled in his seat.

 

'A bit obvious aren't they,' he finally growled, gesturing towards the raven still sat on the fence in front of them.

 

'They fool the tourists,' the women replied, ignoring the suddenly prickly attitude of the Doctor.

 

'That's not much of an achievement,' he muttered under his breath before rising from the bench. 'What's the emergency?'

 

'Aren't you going to introduce me first?' the woman asked, peering round the Doctor to nod kindly at Clara.

 

'Clara this is Kate Lethbridge Stewart, Director of UNIT. Kate, this is Clara Oswald my.....' he said, trailing off shyly at the end. Clara felt herself blushing and hoped Kate would attribute it to the cold. She smiled and gave a small wave to Kate.

 

'Very nice to meet you Clara,' Kate replied. 'Cup of tea?'

 

'What happened to the emergency?' the Doctor questioned, his eyes narrowing at the UNIT director.

 

'There wasn't one, we were just testing whether you'd actually answer your phone,' she answered with a smile. 'Tea's this way Clara.' Clara stifled a laugh at the look of shock on the Doctor's face. She turned and followed Kate towards the entrance of the Tower. With a flash of a badge pulled from her pocket, the beefeaters stepped aside to let them pass, shutting again in the face of the following Doctor. Clara looked back anxiously to see the Doctor flashing a piece of empty paper in a black leather holder. The beefeaters nodded and stepped aside again. The Doctor's long legged stride soon allowed him to catch up with the two ladies as they approached a small, thick wooden door tucked into the side of a wall. Taking a quick glance around her, Kate proceeded to open the door and descend down a tight, stone spiral staircase. Clara descended afterwards, followed closely by the Doctor. Clara felt the Doctor place his hand on her back, a small spot of warmth as they walked down into the cold.

 

After a few minutes, the old stone disappeared to be replaced with more modern looking chrome panelled walls. Reaching the base of the stairs, Clara and the Doctor emerged into a long chrome tunnel, a series of white lights lined the floor, guiding the way. Looking upwards, Clara noticed a series of large black sprinklers. Kate stood ahead waiting for them, her eyes flickered momentarily to the Doctor, who's hand was now pressing into the small of Clara's back.

 

'It's just down here,' she said, waiting for them to catch up before starting to walk again. Sure enough, at the end of the corridor, Clara spotted a guard sat at a small black table. He stood up as they approached, looked at Kate's badge and waved them through with a smile.

 

'Thanks,' Clara said as she passed.

 

The room beyond was a strange mixture of old and modern. The walls had once again returned to stone but numerous desks were placed in rows in the room. Each was occupied by a UNIT worker, reading reports, typing away at modern computers or watching screens. A Perspex sheet encased in a black, metal frame was the centrepiece of the room, a few workers were clustered around it, pointing at lines of equations obviously created by a computer program. They barely looked up as Kate led the Doctor through the office and into another room. This second room was lined with shelving covered in strange looking objects. Clara recognised a Cyberman helmet. She felt the Doctor's hand tense in its position on her back, she could sense him physically bristling next to her. Kate barely glanced at the shelves, instead leading them to a corner with three mismatched armchairs and a small kitchen unit. Clara took a seat as Kate flicked on the kettle.

 

'These need to be destroyed,' the Doctor said flatly.

 

'We've discussed this before,' Kate replied with a sigh. 'How can we understand and protect the Earth from other beings if we don't study and use the technology?'

 

'Ask them, talk to them. Arming yourself will only aggravate the situation,' the Doctor said angrily. Clara watched with concern as the Doctor balled his fists, his eyebrows drawn together, his eyes hard. She reached out automatically, her small hand grasping at his wrist, the nearest part of him she could reach from her seated position. He sighed suddenly and moved to sit in the chair next to her, making sure his back was to the series of shelves. Kate placed two mugs of tea down onto a small coffee table in the middle of the chairs, followed by a large pot of sugar cubes. She nudged the pot towards the Doctor who immediately started to plonk cube after cube into his tea.

 

'So how did you two meet?' Kate asked, sipping from her own mug and leaning back into her chosen chair. The Doctor spluttered, spilling his tea onto his trousers. He wiped at the droplets, furiously refusing to meet the amused face of the director.

 

'On a dating site,' Clara answered truthfully, blowing on the surface of her tea.

 

'And when he turned up in his TARDIS?' Kate asked.

 

'I was a bit surprised yeah, but.........' Clara answered again. The Doctor staying resolutely silent. Clara had the awful feeling that she was being assessed as girlfriend material. The Doctor had never mentioned his parents but it seemed Kate was doing a good job of acting as his motherly figure in this situation.

 

'So where did he take you first?'

 

'India,' the Doctor finally said, staring at Kate, almost daring her to criticise his decision.

 

'Dad always loved India,' Kate said with a wistful smile. 'So Clara is your girlfriend?' The Doctor stared with horror at Kate. He gulped and turned slowly towards Clara who was calmly sat, still drinking her tea. She placed her hand on his knee.

 

'Yes I am. Is that a problem?' she answered Kate, keeping her eyes on the Doctor as the edge of his mouth turned upwards in a soft smile.

 

'Absolutely not. It's about time he found someone!' Kate exclaimed with a laugh, grinning at the two of them.

 

'Thank you,' the Doctor replied sincerely. He dug into his pockets and placed the Nokia onto the table. 'This I am not thankful for.'

 

'Every employee gets a company phone,' Kate replied. 'You're an employee, even if you don't acknowledge it or pick up your payslips.'

 

'You could have at least given me a smartphone,' the Doctor grumbled, picking the phone back up and pocketing it reluctantly.


	18. Love of a Lifetime

'It was very nice to meet you Clara,' Kate said, shaking her hand now that they were back in the long, metallic corridor that had been her first glimpse of UNIT. 'Keep that phone on you Doctor,' she added, smiling softly at him before turning to walk away.

 

'She keeps her memories,' the Doctor growled, his eyebrows drawn together into an intimidating scowl. Kate turned back around slowly. The Doctor continued to stare at her, his body poised and tensed, his hand already buried deep in his inner jacket pocket.

 

'Of course,' Kate said airily, nodding and finally walking away. The Doctor watched her retreating back, his hand still inside his pocket. As soon as Kate disappeared back through the doorway he turned and immediately began striding quickly back down the corridor. Clara turned and raced after him, desperately trying to catch up. Every time she came even remotely close enough to reach for his hand, his strides noticeably quickened. She was getting increasingly worried about his behaviour. Towards the end of their visit to UNIT the Doctor had become suspiciously quiet and distant. She had found herself having to nudge him to gain his attention, to pull him back into reality. And, each time she did, a strange look had shadowed his face, his eyes searching hers before turning to answer Kate gruffly.

 

It was only when they emerged back into the London daylight that he slowed down, glancing quickly to her, before continuing back towards the familiar blue of the TARDIS doors.

 

'What did you mean about me keeping my memories?' Clara asked, slightly out of breath and trying to stem a rising tide of annoyance. The Doctor had already headed straight through the doors and towards the console. He stood busily jabbing at buttons and resolutely avoiding eye contact.

 

'The ducts on the ceiling can emit a gas which wipes any memory of your visit to UNIT,' he explained briefly.

 

'Good job she didn't because I think we should talk about what happened in there. About us,' Clara announced, walking softly towards the Doctor. She watched him visibly tense, his hands gripping the edge of the unit, his head turned just enough so that she couldn't see his face.

 

'Why?' he questioned gruffly.

 

'Because we've never really talked about us being in a relationship but we are, aren't we? I mean you didn't deny it back there, we've been on lots of dates now, hell I even met you on an online dating site and well, I like you, a lot....' Clara said, trying not to feel hurt as despite her confession, the Doctor still refused to look at her.

 

'Are we?' he whispered finally.

 

'Are we what?' Clara questioned, fighting the urge to just grab him and force him to face her, to just say plainly what he actually meant.

 

'Are we in a relationship?' he repeated wearily. Pushing himself away from the console, he straightened and finally turned towards her. His eyes fixed hers with a harsh blue stare, his lips were thinned and serious. Gone was the Doctor she knew. 'You're human Clara. You're so fragile, so short lived. I've already watched you get in harms way too many times, travelling with you it would.... I've seen and done things you're human brain could never comprehend, I've watched people come and go in a blink of an eye and what makes you think that you would be any different. I couldn't bare to.....'

 

'Bare to what?' Clara asked, gulping back an oncoming torrent of tears. She could feel her throat constricting, her eyes beginning to sting, everything falling out of her control. She thought she saw a brief glimmer of guilt, of sorrow, flash across his face, a minute softening of his eyes. But when he blinked, his face was a stern mask once again. They both stood, staring at each other, standing in the centre of the console room. Clara refused to back down, she needed to hear whatever it was he had to say. Whatever it was that he truly meant, that he truly felt, no matter the consequences to her heart. Finally, he croaked out a reply.

 

'I couldn't bare to travel with you any longer.'

 

The words hit her like a solid wall of pain. She could hear a loud gasping noise but couldn't quite equate to being its source. The tears began to flood her vision, but despite it all she could still see his blue eyes staring back at her. He stood before her, a slight twitch of his fingers the only movement he made. Clara could feel the tears sliding in torrents down her cheeks, the once reassuring hum of the TARDIS now felt like it was mocking her, reminding her of wheezing laughter and soft velvet embraces. He finally took a step towards her, his hands reaching out to try and comfort her. The loud clang of his footsteps drew her out of her happy memories and back into a world of confusion and grief. He was still reaching towards her, stepping closer into her personal space. She flinched as she felt the velvet of his coat caress her hand.

 

'Don't,' she said abruptly.

 

'Clara, I-' he pleaded softly, still reaching towards her.

 

'I said don't,' she snapped, stepping quickly backwards. The Doctor froze in place, a bewildered expression shadowing his face. 'If that's how you feel then take me home.'

 

'You already are.' he replied. Clara paused, looking around the TARDIS, trying not to focus on the smaller, matching leather armchair which stood opposite his own. Her eyes instead landed on the monitor screen, a small address blinked on the display. Her flat was waiting outside the doors. 'Clara,' he tried.

 

'Enjoy your life Doctor, whatever you do and whomever you choose to spend it with,' she said, turning and walking towards the doors. With a deep breath, she stepped back into the cold reality of her flat. Closing her eyes she waited. Clara wasn't sure how long she stood there for. Part of her wanted him to come rushing out, to pull her into a hug, to hold her through her tears and whisper apologies in her ear. She didn't realise how much of her yearned for that scenario until the echoing groan of the TARDIS leaving her life forever resounded through her ears. With a series of faltering steps she collapsed onto the sofa, sobs racked her body as she slowly curled into a ball. As a final painful blow, Clara ruminated that this was what it must feel like to lose the love of your life. Because, in the end, that was what the Doctor had been. The love of a lifetime.


	19. I Just Want to Forget

The first thing Clara noticed was a blinding ray of sunshine streaming in through her living room window and directly into her eyes. The second was a pounding headache and an extremely sore throat. The third was that she was clasping something in her enclosed hand, something that was beginning to dig into the skin of her palm. Stretching out slowly and rolling to a sitting position, Clara carefully unfurled her hand to find a small, golden coin waiting for her. Dislodging it from its position, she noticed the other side of the coin's design had imprinted itself on her palm. Marcus Aurelius was imprinted onto her skin. Her breath hitched and a small sob escaped her lips. The Doctor had left her. The pain of yesterday came crashing around her. She'd spent hours crying on the sofa, sobbing loudly until her throat had become so sore that she couldn't even whimper without a sharp burning sensation. Sometime during her breakdown she'd stumbled pitifully towards the alcove in the corner, had stared numbly at all the trinkets and reminders of the Doctor and had finally blindly grabbed the coin. Clutching it desperately in her palm she'd retreated back to the sofa, curled herself back into the foetal position and drowned in memories.

 

Glancing back towards the alcove, Clara stood up carefully and walked towards it. She felt her knees buckle at the sight before her. It was strange how a bunch of objects could cause such a visceral reaction. The small black figurine of Nimbus mocked her as she remembered that intimate moment on the wall, the soft brush of his lips against her hand, the quiet wordless understanding between them and their familiar spirits. Or so she'd thought. Placing the coin back into its small, draw string bag she paused and picked up a pair of black sunglasses. He'd leant them to her after she'd lost hers at a ridiculous New Years party on a beach on some far flung planet. She smiled as she remembered putting them on to find the google homepage and his flustered attempts to quickly wipe his browsing history. She had however caught a glimpse of his last google search: _'top ten places to take someone special in the universe'_.

 

Putting them back down carefully, she ran her finger along the length of a small writing pen, minute layers of black ink still sat caked on the nib. It turns out the Doctor hadn't just stolen one of Jane Austen's teacups but also one of her pens. The same pen to be exact, that she'd been writing Sense and Sensibility with previously that morning. Cherry blossom petals from Japan littered the surface of the shelf. He'd picked them gently out of her hair as they'd wandered through the old town. Several ticket stubs caught her eye, Glastonbury through the ages, the opening of the Grand Exhibition, Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone premiere tickets, the Frost Fair.....

 

Wiping her nose on the back of her jumper sleeve she headed into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. Opening the cupboard she discovered the box of Temi tea he'd given her, the start of it all really. With a sigh, she shoved the box back into the cupboard and pulled out a box of PG tips instead. Turning to grab the kettle, she noticed her phone sat on the kitchen counter. Clara tapped the screen cautiously. Three missed calls. With a deep breath she clicked on the notification. Three missed calls from Gran. Her phone began to buzz, skittering across the surface.

 

'Hi Gran,' she answered, wincing at the weakness of her voice.

 

'Clara? Are you ok love?' the anxious tone of her Gran replied, she heard the scraping of a chair down the line. She was obviously preparing herself for a long conversation. Clara felt herself beginning to tear up again.

 

'He broke up with me Gran, he said that-' she couldn't finish the sentence, instead breaking into small sobs.

 

'Oh sweetheart.' Her Gran sighed, waiting patiently as Clara continued to sob and gulp for air. 'He was your one, wasn't he? I knew it the first time you talked about him.'

 

'I thought he was but....' Clara sniffled. 'It was all so out of blue, we'd just spent a great day together and he'd finally confirmed we were a couple and then.'

 

'Then he did what all men do, he panicked. He panicked and he said stupid things dear,' her Gran said with a sigh.

 

'He meant what he said Gran, you should have seen the look in his eyes. He knew there was no going back after he said it.'

 

'Are you making yourself a cup of tea?' her Gran asked kindly.

 

'Yes,' Clara replied with a small chuckle.

 

'Then everything is going to be fine Clara, and if it's not, you need another cup.'

 

'Thanks Gran.'

 

Clara was sat drinking her third cup of tea when she heard a knock on the door. Frowning with confusion, she looked at her watch. It was now two o'clock in the afternoon on a Tuesday.

 

'Oh God!' she exclaimed. It was a Tuesday and she'd missed work. So why hadn't anyone called to check up on her? 'Coming!' she shouted as the knocking turned into loud banging. 'I said I'm coming!' She ran swiftly into the hallway and yanked open the door.

 

'So you are alive then,' Amy said. 'Thank God because I was not about having to break down your door to reach you.'

 

'I think we would have called first before taking such drastic action,' Rory added, a plastic carrier bag in one hand, the other holding Amy's hand. 'Can we?' He asked, gesturing inside her flat.

 

'Yeah sure, of course,' Clara replied, stepping to one side and watching as Amy took the carrier bag off Rory and headed into the living room. Rory made his way into the kitchen instead. Clara shut the door slowly and traipsed nervously back into the living room.

 

'I've got you covered, don't worry. Work phoned Rory this morning, turns out he's down on your contacts list. I answered and said that you fell ill yesterday and haven't been able to leave your bed since. Also, I brought two bottles of wine, a jumbo box of tissues and our company to sort this all out,' Amy explained, already pulling everything out of the plastic bag and placing them on the sofa next to her. She raised her eyebrows as she noticed the large wet patch which was still so prominent on the sofa. 'I should have brought more wine,' she muttered.

 

'I-' Clara started, furiously trying to blink away yet more tears. Wordlessly, Amy stood up and pulled her into a hug.

 

'It's ok, this is an old top so I don't mind if you stain it with your tears,' she stated, squeezing Clara even harder. Clara laughed weakly, the sound muffled by the fabric of Amy's clothing. She felt Amy wave her hand and heard the clunk of three mugs being placed on the floor by the sofa. Pulling away slowly, she wiped her tears and turned to find Rory smiling reassuringly at her. She soon found herself being pulled into an equally long hug by her old friend.

 

'You didn't have to come,' she muttered.

 

'I've basically been there for every break up since university, you didn't think I'd stop now did you?' Rory asked, releasing Clara from their hug.

 

'How did you know we'd broken up?' she asked in confusion, seating herself on the sofa next to Amy and starting her fourth cup of tea. Rory lowered himself to the floor and rested his back against the base of the sofa.

 

'Your Gran called,' Amy explained, sipping from her own cup. 'Do you want to talk about it?'

 

'Not really,' Clara mumbled. 'I think I just want to forget.'


	20. Moving On?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter this week, sorry for how long it's taken to update. I've been busy away from home visiting friends, attending the Quidditch Premier League and working.
> 
> Thanks as usual to every reader, especially those that take their time to leave kudos and comment!

 

Clara soon fell into a new Saturday routine. Each morning she'd wake up early, pack a bag for the day and leave the flat. Most of the time she would spend her time with Amy and Rory, especially since they'd finally decided to take the leap and move in together. Their important decision had given Clara an excuse to spend even less time in her flat by helping Rory to move all his stuff to Amy's and by taking numerous trips to IKEA. If she wasn't due to spend the day with her two best friends then she'd taken to wandering the streets of London for hours. It didn't really matter what she did or saw, as long as she wasn't in her flat. As long as he couldn't find her. The problem had started when she'd returned home one day and noticed something slightly odd about her living room carpet. A rather distinctive box shape had appeared, as though a large heavy object had been sat there for some time. At first she'd attributed it to all the times the Doctor had landed there previously, but she'd hoovered her flat each week and never noticed it before. The Doctor had obviously been waiting for her.

 

After that she couldn't bare the prospect of meeting him in that way, of having no choice but to confront him after all he'd said and done. It was all still too raw for her. In some ways, she thought it always would be. She'd decided against throwing out the objects on her shelf. Instead she'd boxed them all up carefully, wrapping Nimbus in copious amounts of tissue paper, and stored them under her bed. The shelf had returned to being a dumping place for her post and anything else she needed to eventually put away. The Temi tea had been shoved right to the back of her cupboard as a last resort. Just like the gifts and trinkets, Clara couldn't bring herself to delete his number or all the messages they'd sent through the dating site. Instead, she'd simply blocked his number. An end to communication without a crushing sense of finality. Her heart couldn't cope with a complete goodbye.

 

Which was why, nearly a month after she'd last seen any trace of the Doctor, she was walking home from a failed date. The guy had been nice, one of Rory's friends from work, but she'd found herself having to do all the talking. Finally, after a lot of long, awkward silences, she had called it a night. Surprisingly, Clara wasn't angry or upset. In fact she was quite relieved. The thought of being in a relationship was more daunting than she'd first thought. Right now she was quite happy to spend time with her friends. And, as she continued walking home, she found herself looking forward to Amy and Rory coming over tomorrow night for a takeaway and a few glasses of wine. The conversation would inevitably turn to how her date had gone. Amy would reassure her that she had thought he was dull from the very beginning whilst Rory would protest and then go on to reassure her that there was someone out there for her. Then, Clara would quickly change the subject at the now familiar look in Amy's eyes as she tried to wrangle out of Clara what the Doctor did to cause it all to break down.

 

She felt slightly guilty that she hadn't shared the details of that day to either of her best friends. The problem was, if she started down that narrative then inevitably she'd have to tell them that yes, he was a time travelling alien who lived in a big, blue police box, and yes, she had been lying to them for months. It was somehow easier to live with the guilt of being silent than to open up that bag of worms. Besides, if she left it long enough than the Doctor would become just one of those distant memories of bad dating decisions in her life. Like Amy's obsession with the guy who collected Coca Cola memorabilia or the time Rory started to only listen to heavy metal to appease his then girlfriend.

 

It was really just best if they never knew the truth about the Doctor.


	21. Not Good At This

'So I'm thinking Indian tonight,' Amy said, pulling three wine glasses out of the kitchen cupboard.

 

'Sounds good to me, although this time I'm definitely getting something milder,' Rory commented, using the corkscrew to open the bottle of wine.

 

Clara was stood leaning against the counter, her laptop open in front of her, scrolling through a list of local Indian takeaways. 'How about The Delhi King, they've got loads of five star reviews, delivery's free too,' she suggested.

 

'Sounds good to me,' Amy replied, sliding a large glass of wine across the counter towards her.

 

'Cheers!' Rory announced, holding up his wine glass. Clara smiled and raised her own, watching as Amy followed suit before being to frown as a soft groaning noise rumbled through the flat.

 

'What's that?' Rory asked in confusion. Clara froze, her wine glass still held in mid air.

 

'Clara? Clara, are you alright?' Amy was now shouting above the noticeably louder noise that seemed to be emanating from Clara's living room. 'I think it's an earthquake! I didn't know we could even get earthquakes in London!' Clara turned and placed her glass hurriedly onto the kitchen counter. Without a word, she ran quickly into the living room. As soon as she passed the threshold, she saw it. Her heart was racing in her chest. The curtains fluttered to a standstill as the noise stopped, allowing her to notice a rather panicky looking Amy and Rory stood right behind her.

 

'What the hell is that?' Rory breathed in disbelief.

 

'What he said,' Amy added, her eyes shifting from looking at the box to staring at her best friend.

 

'It's-' Clara started, clamping her mouth shut as the doors of the TARDIS flew open, banging against the blue wood of the box. A small cloud of smoke billowed out of the doors alongside the distinct smell of burning. Clara coughed and shielded her eyes. She almost missed him emerging from the TARDIS until he tripped unceremoniously on the lip of the doorframe and stumbled awkwardly into her living room. He was dressed just as she remembered him, only, there was something off about it all. As he straightened himself out and turned slowly to look at her, she realised that his shirt was definitely whiter than before and had obviously been ironed. His black slacks were slightly tighter and his boots were shinier. Two small silver cufflinks glinted in the lamp light. His red velvet jacket however hadn't changed. He ran his hand shyly through his hair, trying ineffectively to flatten the wild silver curls.

 

'What in god's name are you doing here?' Clara shouted, gesturing towards the scene the Doctor had caused.

 

'Clara!' the Doctor exclaimed, taking a fumbling step towards her.

 

'Clara?' Amy asked suddenly, stepping up behind her and placing a hand on her shoulder. Clara placed her hand on top of Amy's.

 

'It's ok, this is the Doctor,' she reassured her. 'A completely uninvited Doctor who is just about to leave.'

 

'Am I?' the Doctor asked, looking very confused.

 

'Yes you are. Why come here? You can't bare to travel with me, or don't you remember?' Clara hissed, feeling the pain beginning to rise through her chest and straight to her heart.

 

The Doctor strode towards her and immediately grabbed her hand. He clasped it urgently in his own, running his thumb over the back of it. He gulped and looked nervously into her eyes. Clara felt Amy release her shoulder and step back towards Rory. She inhaled slowly, breathing deeply to try and ignore the soft thrum of excitement at his touch. She frowned and wrinkled her nose. 'Doctor, have you been drinking?'

 

'I needed a tiny dose of liquid courage, that's what you humans call it. Too little to properly effect my Time Lord physiology though,' he replied softly, looking guilty.

 

'Humans?' Clara heard Rory whisper to Amy behind them.

 

'I'm not good at this,' he continued on, his thumb still gently rubbing back and forth across her skin.

 

'Not good at what?' Clara asked. She heard, rather than saw Amy and Rory slowly tiptoeing back into the kitchen. The door clicked shut shortly afterwards.

 

'At any of this. At saying the right thing, at not hurting you, at trying to apologise for being the idiot that I am, at trying to keep you safe. That's all I ever wanted Clara, to keep you safe. I thought that pushing you away would do that but I didn't account for how empty it would make me feel, at how empty it would make my life. I panicked after that conversation with Kate, all I could see was you sitting there in the TARDIS after our trip to Rome, shaking and hurt. I had a duty of care and I failed you,' the Doctor blurted out.

 

'I never asked you to keep me safe,' Clara replied forcefully.

 

'You should never have had to,' he replied honestly, tugging Clara's hand to bring her closer to him. 'I want to make this right Clara, I want to show you how much you mean to me. The truth is, I couldn't bare to ever lose you again.'

 

'Doctor, you hurt me, a lot,' Clara whispered, watching a wave of self loathing cross the Doctor's face. She flinched at the intensity of his emotions.

 

'I'm sorry,' he whispered back. Ever so gently, he pulled her into a hug, enveloping her in soft velvet. The rapid thrumming of his hearts vibrated against her ear, her hands gripped firmly at his back, his were just as tightly clinging to hers. She felt him turn his head into the crook of her neck and nuzzle at her hair, a soft whimper escaped his lips.

 

'I missed you too,' Clara mumbled, reaching upwards with one hand to bury her fingers into his hair.

 

'So are either of you going to explain the massive blue box that landed in the living room or.....? Amy's voice queried. Clara felt the Doctor tense and pull away.

 

'Amy!' Rory shouted in exasperation.

 

'What? Like you weren't thinking it,' Amy replied, squinting her eyes at her boyfriend.

 

Clara watched in astonishment as the Doctor stepped forward to them both and extended his hand.

 

'I'm the Doctor, I'm a time travelling alien from another planet and I care very deeply for Clara.'

 

'Errrr nice to meet you Doctor,' Rory replied hesitantly, shaking the Doctor's outstretched hand.

 

'Same,' Amy offered, waving at him. 'I think we'll leave you too it, something about making it up to her. Oh and Clara, when you get back we expect a humungous explanation.'

 

'Right,' Clara said, wincing.


	22. I Owe You

 

'Close your eyes,' the Doctor said, leading her hand in hand towards a now non smoking TARDIS. 'Trust me, please.' Clara closed her eyes and let herself be blindly lead. The clanking of metal underneath her feet alerted her to her position in the console room. She felt the Doctor lean away from her, his hand slipping out of hers briefly before his fingertips brushed against her own again. A few seconds later she heard the soft tapping of keys and the distinct clunk of a large lever being pulled. Sure enough, the TARDIS lurched and rumbled on its journey, the Doctor reaching out to steady her as she stumbled. His hands clutched her tiny waist protectively. Finally, the movement halted and the Doctor guided her back around towards the door. 'Open your eyes.'

 

The sight before her alone nearly made her cry. The TARDIS was floating in the vast emptiness of space, its doors flung wide open to the universe. In front of them loomed a swirling expanse of oranges, blues and whites, coalescing into the surface of a planet. As she watched, the eddies of gas flowed and ebbed, forever twirling in the endless dance of time.

 

'Jupiter,' the Doctor said reverently.

 

'It's beautiful,' Clara said in a hushed tone, her eyes glued to the view in front of her.

 

'I'm glad you like it. I owed you a Van Gogh after we didn't get a chance to visit the National Gallery. It isn't one of his paintings but he did have a hand in helping to create it,' the Doctor continued. Clara turned and looked at his sceptically. 'It's a long story,' he grumbled, scratching the back of his head. She huffed out a laugh. 'I owe you a lot of things actually,' the Doctor admitted, gesturing for her to take a seat. She sat carefully away from the edge of the door. The Doctor had no such qualms and immediately swung his legs off the side of the edge, swinging them gently in the blackness of space. He turned and watched her with a challenging smirk. Shaking her head with a smile she shuffled forward and let her legs drop over the edge. As soon as she'd done so, a small wooden coffee table appeared in front of them, floating slowly over to their laps.

 

'Is that?' Clara asked in disbelief.

 

'A brand new coffee table. I told you I'd replace your other one,' the Doctor iterated. 'If I remember correctly, I also owe you Marcus Aurelius.'

 

'Oh my god! You haven't?!' she exclaimed in shock, whirling her head round to look behind her into the TARDIS.

 

'Ah no.... I didn't, not for now anyway. But I did get you this,' the Doctor said sheepishly, handing her a carefully rolled up scroll. Clara took it and unfurled it.

 

'Is this a letter from _the_ Marcus Aurelius inviting me for dinner?' Clara squeaked out, kicking her legs excitedly underneath her new coffee table. The Doctor nodded, smiling at her excitement. 'Thank you!'

 

'I haven't finished yet,' the Doctor continued, turning and picking something up from behind his back. 'I have one thing left that I owe you but this isn't it, this is just well.....' He trailed off, blushing and revealing a small wooden box. Clara gasped and with shaking hands took it from him.

 

'How?' she whispered, feeling herself choking up at the sight of the box.

 

'I went back and borrowed the moulds from her ex boyfriend and then I, well I rescued the original box and board from the charity shop your mother gave them to. It's not the same set but, it's as close as I could get,' the Doctor explained. Without a word, Clara slowly lifted the lid to find the Lewis chessmen staring back at her. With a shaking hand she picked up a red knight and rotated it round. Where the knight had just proudly stood was a name carved into the board below. **_Ellie_**.

 

'I don't know what to say,' Clara said, biting back tears as she reset the knight and closed the lid. The Doctor was watching her closely, anxiously clasping his hands together.

 

'Then let me do the talking,' the Doctor said, taking her hands in between his, so reminiscent of that day on Daemonion. 'I owe you one more thing, it's the thing I should have told you long ago. The thing I'm actually most nervous about but the most important thing of all. The thing I've been trying to deny since the moment I met you, since the moment you first messaged me on that pudding brained website. I was so scared that one day I wouldn't be able to keep you safe that I thought it would be better to let you go completely, that somehow it would be bearable, that my hearts would forget all about you. I was so, so wrong. How could I forget you? It was impossible.'

 

Clara sat, her legs dangling in space, her heart beating so loudly she was sure the inhabitants of Jupiter could hear it. The Doctor looked out into the swirling mass of their own personal Van Gogh, took a deep breath and turned resolutely back towards her.

 

'Clara Oswald, I love you.'

 

She could feel her hands sweating, clasped in his, could see his eyes staring lovingly into hers, waiting for a reaction. Without a second thought she lent in and touched her lips against his. She heard him hum softly, his hand coming upwards to cup her face, his lips brushing tentatively across her own. With her own hum she delighted in the sensation of his lips pressing more insistently against hers. Clara wound her hand into his hair, alternating between softly scraping his scalp with her fingernails and tugging on the particularly unruly curls. The sinful moan that escaped his lips was enough to leave her panting inches from his lips. She smiled widely as the Doctor rested his forehead against her own, the soft huff of his breath an echo of her own. Finally, she managed to whisper, 'I love you too.'

 

The TARDIS hummed happily in the background, her lights dimming to reveal a multitude of stars in the darkness of space.

 

'We'll visit every single one,' the Doctor uttered, pulling his gaze away from her own and out towards the universe.

 

'Promise?' Clara asked, leaning her head on his shoulder.

 

'I promise.'

 

'That's if I survive this talk with Amy,' she added. The Doctor laughed and wrapped his arm around her. Clara snuggled closer, already mentally planning their next adventure. She should probably phone her Gran first, after all, she was right, he really was the one.


End file.
